


A Time Traveler's Guide to 21st Century New York

by omphaloskepsist



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 48,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphaloskepsist/pseuds/omphaloskepsist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Reed Richards leaves a few interdimensional rifts laying around New York City, Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise and Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy find themselves trapped in a strange world of superheroes and magic. Will Kirk be able to get back to his beloved Enterprise in the face of such obstacles as Captain America's perfect ass and Tony Stark's gigantic, um, tower? Find out in A Time Traveler's Guide to 21st Century New York!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caitri](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=caitri).



> Written for [Star Trek Big Bang](startrekbigbang.livejournal.com) 2012.  
> Art by Ellipsisthgreat: [A Time Traveler's Comic Book](http://ellipsisthgreat.livejournal.com/23505.html)  
> Mix by Wyntreaurora: [Just Another Intergalactic Rift](http://wyntreaurora.livejournal.com/12841.html)
> 
>   
>  [](http://s1102.photobucket.com/albums/g453/ellipsisthegreat/Guide/?action=view&current=Front1.png)   
>  [](http://s1102.photobucket.com/albums/g453/ellipsisthegreat/Guide/?action=view&current=Frontv2.png)   
> 

[ ](http://s1102.photobucket.com/albums/g453/ellipsisthegreat/Guide/?action=view&current=StevePBMarker.png)

"So, tell me again why we have to babysit Reed's wormhole? I never make anyone sit around and watch my experiments…except JARVIS, and JARVIS is incapable of getting bored," Iron Man complained, but he seemed rather content zipping around the fences of a Little League field, testing the banking capabilities of his new suit.

At least Tony had something to do besides stare at the wavering sheen in the air, which was, apparently, a hole to another dimension, or another universe…something along those lines. Steve didn't really care. All he knew was last time Reed Richards made one of these, New York City was attacked by pirates and it had taken three days to force them back wherever they belonged.

"Maybe you should have someone else keep an eye on you," Steve said, adjusting his grip on the shield. "Happy would be a lot happier if he didn't have to drive you to the hospital so often." If the wormhole had been above asphalt instead of third base, he would have thought the wormhole was a mirage from the heat.

"Happy's always Happy; can't be more than what you are," Tony said. "Check this out, Cap!"

Steve looked up, shielding his face against the sun, and burst out laughing at Tony doing an approximation of a one-armed handstand in midair. "Is that supposed to be impressive?"

"It's very — do you see, this is just one repulsor I'm using — very impressive!" Tony said, flipping over and crossing his arms. "It takes a lot of balance, lots of calculations to balance like that."

Steve nodded. "Calculations you have written into Iron Man's programming. The suit did the work."

"And who made the suit? It's very, very impressive, Steve."

Steve glanced at the wormhole. It was still shimmering, no pirate invasion imminent as far as he could tell. He was tempted to put down his shield and show Tony a thing or two. Instead, he rolled his shoulders and turned his attention back to Reed's masterpiece. "The point of calisthenics is physical control."

Tony swooped closer. "Physical control, huh. I bet you know all about it, Cap, why don't you show me how it's done?"

Too bad Tony was asking while they were on a mission; otherwise, Steve would've gladly taken him up on the offer. "Maybe later, when we're out of uniform."

Iron Man paused, and Steve was immediately irritated. If Steve had been anyone else, Tony would have pounced on the innuendo. Instead, Tony did a facsimile of a cartwheel and ignored it. "Oh, like anything's going to happen. C'mon, Steve, live a little."

The air in front of the wormhole shimmered and shifted. "Iron Man," Steve said, shield at the ready, as two men solidified before his eyes. The wormhole closed in on itself behind them, thwarting Steve's hope to simply push them back through.

Iron Man came rushing from the sky, aiming one hand at the men. "Where'd you come from?"

"Where'd _we_ come from? Where in tarnation did this _planet_ come from?" said the man in blue, crossing his arms and glaring at the man in gold. "Scotty's sending my molecules wherever the hell he pleases now, is he? I'm supposed to be on shore leave, Jim, and this is a damn far cry from Deep Space Three."

"Excuse me," Steve said, and pointed to their sidearms. "Please remove your weapons or show me your gun permits."

"Excuse _me_ , you overgrown — " said the man in blue, but the other man pushed in front of him and held out a hand to Steve.

"I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the federation starship Enterprise. My colleague is Doctor Leonard McCoy, chief medical officer of the same vessel." The man smiled, eyes twinkling at Steve. Steve cautiously took his hand, keeping his shield up. They shook a little longer than Steve thought was necessary, and Kirk's smile was…well, the man was good-looking and seemed to know it.

"You're fucking with me," Iron Man said.

The doctor glared at Iron Man. "What is it with the goddamn robots? Would it kill to program them to be polite?"

Iron Man dropped to the ground a little louder than was necessary, and pulled up his faceplate. "I am Tony Stark, not a 'goddamn robot,' and I always program them to be polite. But me, Doctor McCoy, I'm not nice. You two should head off to your convention. We're grown-ups; we have — "

"It's good to meet you both," Steve said, heading Tony off, "but I am going to ask you to put your guns down."

"They're not guns, Cap," Tony said, snapping his faceplate back down. "They're toys."

"Phasers, actually — " Kirk began.

"No, toys." Tony interrupted. "Look, have you two ever even watched Star Trek, or what, because you barely have the most basic details right. You'd be an embarrassment to Trekkies everywhere, but they're too smart to associate with you. I'm definitely too smart to associate with you. You're civilians and this is a war zone slash science project slash swashbuckling adventure so you'd better scamper off before you start praying for Scotty to beam you up."

Kirk's smile changed to something a little frightening, but still dazzling. "I'm not playacting, Mr. Stark, and I'm certain if Mr. Scott was able to get a lock on us, we wouldn't be bothering you now."

"Mother of god, would you look at that," McCoy said, touching Kirk's shoulder. He pointed toward the city skyline. "Jim…it's the Empire State Building."

Kirk looked, eyes narrowing. "It certainly looks like it." He turned to Steve. "Would you mind telling me where we are and what year it is?"

"Just stop it," Tony said. "Cap, don't answer, it'll just encourage them."

"The wormhole closed when these men appeared. I think we should give them a little credence." Tony scoffed, but Steve continued. "The year is twenty twelve. I'm Captain America, my companion is Iron Man, and we defend New York City. And I think I need to ask you, again, to put your weapons down before I consider you a threat."

"What are you gonna do, shield us to death?" McCoy asked, but he and Kirk both carefully laid their weapons — phasers, Kirk called them — on the ground and stepped away from them.

"Bet you've been waiting a long time to use that one, Bones," Tony said. Both McCoy and Kirk looked outraged. "OK, OK, I'll pretend you came out of a wormhole — by the way, Cap, if Mr. Fantastic hears you called it that, he's gonna kill you, it's a dimensional rift this time — "

"A dimensional rift?" Kirk said, perking up. "We just did one of these. No problem, we just need to make a few adjustments to our communicators and Scotty can get us home."

"I bet he can," Tony said. "Is his mom's minivan a Chevy? I think it's pulling up."

Steve picked up the phasers, stuck one in his utility belt, and looked at the other. It didn't look like a gun, although it had a trigger and what appeared to be a safety.

"Please don't touch it," Kirk said, holding out his hands, "It's set to stun and I'd appreciate it if it stayed that way."

"Lemme see." Tony took the phaser from Steve. "This doesn't even look like a hand phaser, it's all shiny and Buck Rogers." He pointed the phaser at the ground and fired it with a flash of light and smoke, and then stared down at the resultant crater, appearing to be at a loss.

"Doesn't look like a toy to me," Steve said, taking the phaser and very cautiously putting it into his belt.

"You're serious," Tony said, turning toward Kirk and McCoy, servos whining. "You're, pardon me for the horribly obvious pun, the real McCoy."

"Damn straight," McCoy said. "But how do you know who I am if this is twenty-first century New York?"

"There's a TV show about you," Tony said. "Kirk, Bones, Spock…it's from the nineteen sixties and it's fictional. More believable than Dianetics, sure, what isn't — but your phasers work and I don't know why you'd bother impersonating yourselves if you were going to do such a shoddy job of it. So, what, you time travel often?"

"We do, occasionally, encounter temporal anomalies," Kirk said. "But this is my first time being the subject of a fictional — "

McCoy coughed. "I don't know, remember the story in the Federation Inquirer about — "

"Nothing in that article was exaggerated, I assure you, gentlemen." Kirk licked his lips, waiting for a reaction, and Steve looked at him politely. "Well, I suppose you haven't read it. We have been to an alternate Earth and let some of the crew out for shore leave before I realized our mistake. I can't say I'm too surprised to find we inspired a few stories."

Steve nodded, squatting down to inspect the crater Tony'd blasted in the middle of the field. Looked like Steve would need to come back with grass seed and line paint. It'd have to be out of Tony's pocket — he'd be damned before he requisitioned anything through SHIELD's gauntlet of paperwork. 

"Anyway, I'm more interested in you, Captain," Kirk said. Steve looked up at him, smiling politely, and Kirk took a step closer. "I thought you died in nineteen forty-four, taking down a Nazi munitions factory. Glad to see history proved wrong...in more ways than one. The pictures we have don't do you justice." He winked.

Iron Man and McCoy crossed their arms and glared at Kirk. Steve looked Kirk over as he stood, appreciating the man's form and Tony's annoyance as he answered. "I'm certain any differences in timeline can be explained by being in the wrong part of the multiverse."

"And we'd like to get back to ours," McCoy said.

"Fine, I'll call a cab," Tony said, and flew to the road. It was hard to tell with the armor on, but he seemed a little sulky. Steve followed, walking with Kirk and McCoy.

"You seem remarkably nonplussed, given two men from the future just appeared in a…" McCoy looked around, then hooted. "Is this a baseball field? I've only seen one of these things in the vids!"

"You don't have baseball? When are you from, again?" Steve really hoped he wouldn't live that long.

"The twenty-third century, and we have baseball. Bones here is just a back river Joe who's never seen the world outside Georgia," Kirk said.

McCoy looked murderous, so Steve decided to change the subject. "Bones?" he asked. "Is that your nickname?"

"That's his name," Kirk said, as McCoy said, "No."

Steve smiled. Tony was still trying to live down Shellhead. "Dr. McCoy, then? Could get confusing, I already know one of those. He's a little…different, though."

"Call me Leonard," McCoy said as Steve stopped on the curb. McCoy and Kirk almost kept walking onto the street, but Steve held up a hand. "How do you mean, different?"

"He means Hank McCoy is hairy and blue," Iron Man said from above them.

"Interesting. You've already made first contact?" Kirk said. "That doesn't happen for us until twenty sixty-one. Do you already have warp capabilities, too?"

"I'm not quite sure…" Steve said, looking up at Tony, who was keeping himself aloft by firing one repulsor at a time. "Tony, do you know anything about first contact?" Steve had gotten most of the future figured out, but the future's future was beyond him.

"Came out in nineteen ninety-six," Iron Man said, a few seconds later, then dropped to the ground. Tony did that really smoothly, neither searing the ground with his repulsors or falling far enough to make craters. Steve made a note to praise him about it when they were alone; Tony always loved hearing how good he was in the suit.

"What about warp drive?" Kirk asked.

Tony lifted his faceplate and grinned at Steve. "No, First Contact, the movie, came out in nineteen ninety-six. Best of the Trek films, but I digress. First contact, as when aliens first revealed themselves to humans, happened either two years ago or thousands of years ago, depending on how you look at it. All of the Norse pantheon are aliens. You guys met them yet?"

McCoy — Leonard — raised an eyebrow. "One of the Roman gods, a few of the Greek, but no one Nordic."

"So what about us?" Tony asked. "You say Cap died in World War Two; what do you know about Tony Stark?"

Leonard looked away, and Kirk asked, "Anthony Stark?"

"Yeah, I guess. Weird to think I'd go with that in the history books."

Kirk started to answer, but Leonard put his hand on his arm. "I don't think you need to worry about it. Anything we know about you in our timeline is completely different in this one."

"Come on, what am I, a mass murderer?" Tony asked.

"No," Steve said. A cab was a couple blocks away, and he pointed to it. "Hey, there's our ride."

"'Our ride?'" Tony asked. "You aren't coming with me?"

Steve flushed. "I can't leave these two on their own, I need to ride with them."

"Your loss," Tony said and flipped his faceplate down.

"And my gain," Kirk said. Iron Man turned on him, repulsors definitely searing the ground now as Tony added a few more inches to his height. Kirk, to his credit, only looked amused.

"Cap, we can take that flight you were looking forward to later, maybe after dark, see some fireworks," Iron Man said, head barely turned toward Steve.

Steve shook his head and smiled. "Sounds fine to me, Iron Man." Iron Man took off toward the Baxter Building, doing a showy roll.

The cab pulled up, and Steve opened the door for Leonard and Kirk. Leonard grumbled, but Kirk pushed him inside. 

As Steve was about to duck into the cab, Tony's voice came in through his communicator. " _I'll call and explain the situation to Richards, Cap._ "

Steve put his hand to the communicator in his ear and said, "Thanks. I'll see you in twenty."

" _No problemo, Cap; just keep an eye out._ " 

Steve ducked down, held a finger up to the cabby, and smiled apologetically at Kirk and Leonard. He shut the door and said quietly, "Is there something I should know about these guys?"

Tony snorted. " _Bones is alright, but Captain Kirk…well, he's a ladies' man, you know?_ "

Steve grinned. "Are you afraid he'll hit on Sue?"

" _Pssh! I know he'll hit on Sue. I do, remember. Nothing to worry about there; Sue's smart enough to avoid his wiles,_ " Tony said, and Steve could imagine the way Tony's eyebrows were wiggling.

"Then, what's the issue?" Steve asked.

Tony gave an exaggerated sigh. " _Just don't get taken in by his soulful hazel eyes, alright?_ "

"Blue," Steve said.

" _What?_ " Tony said.

"His eyes are blue," Steve said, and opened the car door.

" _What?_ " Tony said, " _Are you kidding me right now? Do you seriously know his eye color, because that's crazy, you don't even know —_ "

"Talk to you in twenty, Iron Man. Captain America out." Steve tuned out Tony's whining as he sat down next to Kirk in the cab, shoving his shield in front of his knees. "Sorry, fellas. To the Baxter Building, please."

"Wait!" Leonard said, looking a little green around the gills as he pulled at his seatbelt. "My restraint won't fasten."

"Oh, come on, Bones, you'll be fine," Kirk said.

"No, I will not be fine!" Leonard wrestled with his belt, but it wouldn't snap in. "Do you know what the mortality rate for automobiles was in the twenty-first century? We're going to get flipped and I'll go flying out the viewscreen."

"Windshield," Steve said. It was odd to be the person correcting terminology. "You have it at the wrong angle. Let me help." He leaned over Kirk to fasten the belt.

Kirk took the opportunity to put his hand on Steve's lower back. Steve glanced at him, meeting his definitely blue eyes, and Kirk raised his eyebrows and licked his lips. Steve fastened the belt and shifted back to his own seat, letting his hand graze over Kirk's thigh.

The cab pulled out, and Leonard cradled his head in his hands, murmuring, "Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. We're in a vehicle powered by fossil fuels, two hundred years, thousands of light-years and only God knows how many dimensions away from home, and Jim Kirk's still flirting with the nearest moving object."

Steve laughed and Kirk froze, then shrugged a little and smiled, ruefully. "Thanks, Bones."

"Did I say that out loud?" Leonard asked. "Good, maybe you'll stop."

"It's alright, Captain Kirk," Steve said. "It's a strange multiverse. There's not much that can surprise me."

"Call me Jim," Kirk said. "And can I help it, Bones? It's not every day I get to meet Captain America."

"Steve," Steve said. The cabby turned a corner a little too quickly, and Leonard covered his mouth. "It's not much further, Leonard. Do you want me to open the window?"

"The windows open? Do you have any idea how structurally unsound that is?" Leonard groaned. "Oh, God."

Jim turned to him and put an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, Bones, it's alright."

"Let me die in peace, you goddamn lunatic," Leonard said, but he relaxed against Jim's arm.

"We'll get you home as soon as we can," Steve said. "Reed Richards and Tony Stark are the most intelligent men I've met. There won't be any trouble."

Iron Man met them at the Baxter Building, tapping his toes. Steve had to unfasten both Leonard's and Jim's seatbelts — well, he didn't really _have_ to, they were smart guys, but he was happy to acquiesce — and he could feel Tony's glare through the Iron Man helmet and the cab door.

He paid the cabby before strapping his shield to his back, and Iron Man led the way into the building with a stream of annoyance pouring through his speaker system. Steve ignored him, as was easiest when Tony was in a snit, and he assumed Jim and Leonard would be too intimidated by Iron Man to do more than listen quietly.

"Let me tell you, the snarl on Fifth would have stopped you dead in your tracks if I hadn't personally moved a stalled Oldsmobile, you can thank me for that. And the octogenarian driving didn't know who I was and thought I was carjacking her. Tony Stark, carjacking an Oldsmobile, can you fucking picture it?"

"Language, Iron Man," Steve said, mildly, stepping into the elevator and holding the door open until everyone was in, then hitting the button for the thirty-second floor.

"Yeah, try talking to her about language. She was nutso, threatened my life and hit me with her cane. She hit me with a cane. Talk about balls. I almost called for backup, but Captain America was busy riding in a cab — "

"A goddamn death trap!" Leonard said. "And the pilot — "

"Cabby," Steve said.

" — couldn't even drive in a straight line!" Leonard finished.

"I saw! I drive better than that asshole with a bottle of whiskey in me!" Iron Man said.

"A tribble could drive better." Leonard said. Steve and Jim exchanged a look.

"A tribble?" Iron Man asked. "Tribbles are real?"

"Unfortunately," Leonard grumbled. The elevator dinged, and Steve led the way into Reed Richards's lab.

"Richards!" Iron Man said, pulling at his helmet. "Richards, get this!"

"What," Reed said, working at two computer terminals at once. "I'm busy."

"Tribbles are real!" Tony said. "Can you believe it?" He turned to Leonard. "Are they really born pregnant, because I really don't know how that works unless they're asexual, which would be crazy — "

"Pregnant with one of their own siblings," Leonard said.

Reed laughed, still not looking at them. "Not possible."

"Oh, yeah? I have my tricorder, I'll show you the scans," Leonard said.

"How much did Tony pay you to put you up to this?" Reed said as he turned around. "You don't even look like Leonard McCoy. Other than the hair."

Leonard raised his eyebrow, and Tony laughed. "See, look, how can you doubt it? But I didn't think about your tricorder! Let me see it."

Leonard handed Tony the black box he had strapped over his shoulder, and Tony crowed. "Look at this! Look at this!" He pointed it at Reed. "Look, it can tell you're rubber!"

"I am not _rubber,_ " Reed said, but took the box from Tony and poked at it.

"What is that thing?" Steve asked Jim.

"It's a medical tricorder. It scans and diagnoses any life forms we have records on," Jim said. Reed scanned Tony with it, and Tony's face went blank.

"Tony, what's — " Reed began, but Tony grabbed the tricorder.

"No big deal, the suit must be interfering with the readings." He handed it back to Leonard. "Can I check this out when we get to my lab, is that OK?"

"I don't know," Leonard said, putting it back over his shoulder and patting it. "Won't it mess up the timeline?"

Tony wrinkled his nose. "Nah. Anything you do while in the past has already affected you. Besides, we're from a different universe. No harm, no foul."

"Tony, they're not coming to your lab," Steve said. "Reed's sending them right back home."

"No, I'm not," Reed said.

"What?" Jim, Leonard, and Steve chorused.

"Well, I could've told you that," Tony said. "For one thing, if it was just a matter of opening the wormhole to the same position, the Enterprise wouldn't be there. We'd be dropping you into space. Unpleasant. I've done it a few times, don't suggest it."

Jim turned toward Tony. "Oh? I need to get back to my ship, gentlemen."

"You're on shore leave for the next month. The ship will survive," Leonard said.

"I need to get back to the same universe as my ship, at least. Last time, we modified a communicator to provide our chief engineer a signal to lock onto us with the transporter," Jim said, pulling a little flip phone from his belt and prying it open.

"What you mean," Leonard said, walking to Jim, "is _Spock_ modified a communicator and _I_ kept the locals happy doing parlor tricks while _you_ picked up a few dates."

"Bones, this is hardly the time — " Jim began.

"No, this is definitely the time. Neither you nor I know what Spock did to the communicator. All I know is he said something about altering the axis of their electrons. If you try to screw around with our communicators now, you'll break them and we'll never get a signal out."

"I know what I'm doing!" Jim said.

"You're a starship captain, not a theoretical physicist!" Leonard snapped his fingers and held out his hand. Jim sighed, but reassembled the phone and put it back on his belt.

"Fortunately for you," Tony said, "I've got one of those at home."

"Another communicator?" Jim asked.

"No, the physicist," Steve said, smiling at Tony. "But why at home? Reed's here."

"Reed's research is all about the wormholes right now."

"That's the second time you've said 'wormhole,' Stark. Be precise: they're dimensional rifts, and once I stabilize them — "

"Once you stabilize them, in what, fifteen years? How long have you been doing this and getting no further than 'yar yar dee fiddle dee dee?'"

Everyone in the room raised an eyebrow at Tony.

"Do none of you go on the Internet?" Tony said. "Steve, come on, tell me you've seen that."

Steve shook his head. He was still working his way through the Socially Awkward Penguin tag on Tumblr. It was amazing how two lines of text could resonate so deeply.

Tony waved his hand in annoyance. "Doesn't matter. Point is, Reed wants to solve this problem with a dimensional rift, and he'll be working on it for the foreseeable future. We want to solve this problem the way we know works, the fast way, so we'll go home and Banner can do it while I reverse engineer all of your stuff. Sound good?" He paused long enough to let Jim open his mouth, then answered himself. "Yup, sounds good. Let's go." He put on his helmet and pushed the down button on the elevator.

"Before you leave, I need something of yours so I can compare the frequencies of our two universes," Reed said, voice breaking a little. He cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling.

"Sure," Jim said, stripping off his shirt and throwing it to Reed. He stood straighter without his shirt, Steve noticed. Reed grabbed at the shirt three times before he had it firmly in his grasp, then he hugged it to his chest.

"You have got to be kidding me," Leonard said. He strode across the room to snatch the shirt from Reed, and pulled a black undershirt out of it. He handed the gold shirt back to Reed and threw the undershirt into Jim's face.

Jim raised his eyebrows and smiled, then shrugged the shirt on, flexing his shoulders and abs more than was really necessary. "Sorry, I must have grabbed both by accident."

"Accident, my ass," Leonard grumbled, and Steve grinned.

"Elevator's here, let's go, people," Tony called.

"Thanks, Reed," Steve said, walking toward the elevator, but he turned to watch when he heard Jim talking.

"Yes, thank you very much for your time, Mr. Richards," Jim said, grasping Reed's hand. Reed blushed, looking at everything in the room but Jim.

Leonard elbowed Jim and offered Reed his hand. "Good to meet you." Reed dropped Jim's and grabbed onto Leonard's like it was a lifeline.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor McCoy, Captain Kirk," Reed said, and took a deep breath. "Could I get you to sign this?" He held up the shirt.

Both of them raised their eyebrows, and Tony stuck his arm in the elevator door and craned his head around to watch. Tony laughed through the comm link — at least he had learned not to laugh in Reed's face anymore — and Steve bit the corners of his mouth to keep himself quiet. "We should probably head out," Iron Man said without a trace of amusement.

Leonard came toward the elevator, grumbling. "Everywhere we go, it's the same goddamn thing over and over again." Jim shrugged at Reed, mouthing an apology as he followed Steve into the elevator and out of the building. 

Steve looked longingly at his motorcycle, parked in front of the building, then looked at Tony. “How are we getting home?”

"Happy's here to take Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy back to Stark Tower," Iron Man said, then added over the comm, "We might as well make our own ways back."

"Thanks, Tony," Steve said, and put his hand on Iron Man's shoulder. "I'll go ahead."

"Don't tell Banner," Iron Man said. "I want to see if this brings out his good side."

Steve shook his head as he walked over to his motorcycle. He ran his hand over the handles of the bike. It was beautiful; Tony had found and restored it for him and riding it felt the same as being home. As he checked his helmet, someone behind him — Jim Kirk — found the line of his bicep and traced it. Steve turned to face him.

"Can I hitch a ride?" Jim asked, standing too close. He was tall, but not as tall as Steve, and he was able to look up through his eyelashes to make it very clear he wasn't only interested in Steve's bike. Steve looked behind him, to Leonard with his arms crossed, staring disgruntledly at them, and to Iron Man, who was tapping his fingers against his chest.

Steve ducked his head close to Jim's ear, still looking at Tony, whose hand slowly dropped to his side until he stood completely passive. "It may upset our friends."

Jim turned and grinned at Tony and Leonard, then said to Steve. "Our friends are adults. They can figure it out."

Steve nodded. "Alright." He unstrapped the bike's spare helmet and handed it to Jim. Jim examined the helmet, flipping it over a few times before placing it gingerly on his head and buckling it.

"No," Leonard said. "No, you are not riding on a motorcycle."

"Can I drive?" Jim asked Steve, as though he hadn't even heard Leonard.

Steve put a finger on Jim's chest. "You are pushing it."

"Can't blame me for trying," Jim said with a grin.

"No, you can't drive a motorcycle, and you can't ride one, Jim," Leonard said, taking a step closer.

Jim shrugged at Steve, then turned to Leonard. "I've been riding and driving motorcycles since I was twelve and Captain America — "

"No offense to Captain America, but when you were thirteen, you fell off a motorcycle, broke your leg, and cracked your ribs. How long did it take you to heal?" Leonard said.

"Uh, three days of sitting under the torture device you call an osteoregenerator," Jim said.

Iron Man whistled, like a kettle coming to boil. Tony hadn't been able to find a sound he liked for whistling and he cycled through several different tones he said annoyed him the least. Steve and Bruce had recorded the kettle for him. "Faster than you, Steve."

Steve nodded. "A lot faster."

Leonard ignored them and took Jim by the elbow, talking low and fast. "There aren't regenerators here, Jim, other than the one I have for small wounds. If you broke something, it would take weeks to heal. Months, even. And that's a simple broken bone. We're still in a world that relies mainly on boiling water to sterilize equipment, for God's sake. If something goes wrong, I can't _fix_ you."

"I can't recall asking you to," Jim said, turning smoothly away from Leonard, who threw his hands in the air in disgust. "Come on, Captain, let's go."

Steve put his leg over his bike, dug the keys out of his utility belt, and started her up. Jim looked at him appraisingly. "How am I supposed to hold on with the shield on your back? I guess I can put it on mine…"

Steve stared at Jim and Iron Man laughed. "Yeah, like he'll let you touch the shield. No one touches — I'm not even allowed to touch the shield."

"You tried to make it invisible!" Steve said, a bit more petulantly than he intended. He was perfectly rational about his shield. He shook his head at Jim. "Sorry, it's extremely valuable. Irreplaceable."

"The word you're looking for is 'antique,'" Iron Man said. "Almost as old and set in its ways as Cap himself."

Steve unbuckled the shield and handed it to Jim. Jim held it for a moment, looking for a moment like a kid with stars in his eyes, and then strapped it on his back. "I'm wearing Captain America's shield. Bones, tell me you're not jealous."

Leonard met Jim's eyes coolly. "I'm not jealous."

Jim shrugged and slid onto the bike behind Steve, wrapping one arm around Steve's waist and resting his chin on Steve's shoulder. "See ya, Bones."

Steve felt a little bad ruining Jim's dramatic exit, but he took his time merging out into traffic. He had no desire to face Leonard's wrath. He was going to have to do enough damage control with Tony. For a start, he turned to Tony and waved. Iron Man waved him away.

It was only a five minute drive, would have only been three if he U-turned on Park Avenue, but he spotted Iron Man flying overhead and Tony never let it go when Steve disobeyed traffic rules or did anything else Tony considered unseemly. Case in point: Tony's reaction to Jim Kirk. According to Tony, Steve should be impervious to flirting and completely unaffected by a handsome face, including Tony's own. Steve was supposed to respond with nothing but naiveté and the occasional blush to constant, over-the-top innuendo because Steve was Captain America, upholder of virtue.

It was true, of course. He would fight to his death for people to live freely, speak freely, and choose freely. But virtue in the way Tony meant it, the idea of sexuality as both sacred and obscene, was something Steve had rejected as a teenager. Sex was good and no one should be looked down on for their desires. That included Steve, who had missed two good chances to turn around and head back to Park Avenue because Jim Kirk was plastered to his back, hips flush against his, with one hand warming the leather on Steve's upper thigh.

Jim's chin was still resting on his shoulder, and Steve gently knocked their helmets together. "Wanna go for a real ride?"

"Definitely," Jim said, squirming, and Steve laughed. "But not now. Bones doesn't deserve the early grave I'm sending him toward."

"Then why are you here?" Steve asked, turning right on Eighth.

"I can't help it," Jim said. "I thought we'd be going a little faster."

Steve took a red light as an opportunity to put his hand on Jim's. "Seems pretty fast to me."

Jim nodded, and smoothed his other hand over Steve's abdomen. "So, did the super soldier serum keep you this young?"

"No," Steve said. He didn't really feel like elaborating. "The super serum worked on your world, too?"

"Yeah. Didn't make you bulletproof, though." They were quiet as Steve was able to pick up some speed on Fortieth, and Jim laughed when they turned north onto Park. "Are you lost, because we seem to have come full circle."

"Not at all," Steve said, grinning. "I know exactly where I'm going."

"I like that," Jim said. "Makes for a nice change of pace."

Steve went a little too fast into Tony's parking entrance, waving to JARVIS's camera over the door and trusting him to open the ramp quickly enough. " _Pressed for time, Captain Rogers?_ " JARVIS asked through the comm.

Steve grinned and answered, "Just testing your reflexes."

Jim tightened his grip. "What do you mean?"

"Not you, I was talking to JARVIS on the comm…unicator," Steve said, annoyed with his own insensitivity.

"I know what a comm is," Jim said. "And if I didn't know, I would ask. Believe me, I know a few things about finding my way in a new culture."

Steve nodded and slowed for the last of the banked turns into the garage. He could make it going forty miles an hour without destroying Tony's lab, but he wasn't sure whether or not he could handle it with Jim on the bike. Jim had a good seat, but there were some things that weren't appropriate on a first date.

Happy and Leonard were waiting for them in the garage, and Happy hightailed it as soon as he saw Steve without as much as a backward glance. Steve very carefully parked the bike in its place at the end of Tony's row of cars. Jim jumped off, removed his helmet, and shrugged off Steve's shield before they were even parked. Steve picked up the shield and strapped it on as Jim ran to the cars. "Look at these! They're gorgeous!"

" _Thank you,_ " JARVIS said. Leonard looked around for the owner of the voice, but Jim didn't take his eyes or hands off Tony's Corvette.

"That's JARVIS," Steve said to Leonard. "He's an artificial intelligence Tony made. He lives in the tower. And in Iron Man. And most of these cars."

"Hi?" Leonard said, rubbing the back of his neck.

" _Hello, Doctor McCoy,_ " JARVIS said. " _Would you like to schedule a massage?_ "

" _What?_ " Leonard said, dropping his hand.

" _You appear to be in discomfort, and Mr. Stark has offered you every amenity he has at his service._ "

"How can it tell I'm in discomfort?" Leonard asked Steve.

" _He_ uses cameras, microphones, and Tony won't admit it, but I'm pretty sure he can monitor our heart rates and blood pressure somehow," Steve said.

"We won't be revealing that little hat trick, will we, JARVIS?" Tony said, strolling out of his bathroom, hair wet from the shower and towel wrapped around the back of his neck. Steve smiled, because who but Tony would stroll out of a bathroom.

" _Captain Kirk, please do not attempt to jimmy the lock._ "

They all turned to see Jim with his hands raised. "The door wouldn't open!"

"That's because it's locked," Tony said. "It's my car, my very special car, and it's locked so people like you can't get into it and break it."

"You have fifteen cars down here and a motorcycle — " Jim started.

" _Steve_ has a motorcycle," Tony said.

" — and JARVIS just said you were giving us every amenity at your service!" Jim still hadn't taken his hands off the car, and Tony was frowning and rolling up to his tiptoes.

"Bones has every amenity. You, you, I only gave most. You're not allowed:" he flicked his fingers up as he listed, "My cars. Steve's bike. Access to anyone else's rooms or clothing, including uniforms and the Iron Man. And massages. Add massages to the list, JARVIS."

" _Captain Kirk is on 'Sir Is Intoxicated' privileges, sir?_ " Steve bit back a laugh and Tony held his middle finger up toward the nearest camera.

"I really don't think I'll need any of those things, either," Leonard said, moving to Jim and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Put me on that list, too."

" _As you wish, Doctor McCoy. But if you reconsider, I will reinstate your privileges at your request._ "

Jim's lip twitched, but he smoothed it into a smile. "Alright, Mr. Stark — "

"My name's Tony." Steve groaned inwardly as Tony stuck his hands in his pockets and glared at Jim.

"Tony," Jim said, nodding. "That's fine. You said you'd be able to get us home, and I'm a little anxious to get started."

"Alright," Tony said. "Let's take you to meet Bruce. JARVIS, elevator."

" _Might I suggest you take the stairs? You haven't achieved the optimal amount of daily aerobic exercise necessary for a man of your age._ " Tony threw his towel at a camera and gestured to the elevator.

"Neither has Jim, here. Maybe I should install a JARVIS on the Enterprise so it can waste its breath instead of me." Leonard squeezed Jim's shoulder as the four of them walked to the elevator.

"Don't worry, I'm sure I’ll find time for exercise later tonight," Jim said, catching Steve's eye as he brushed past him into the elevator.

Steve's face did go pink at that, but he nodded. "You could spar with us."

"Yeah, with the whole team," Tony said, looking Jim up and down. "Natasha's kicked everyone else's ass ten times already. She needs fresh meat."

"Who's the team?" Jim asks, looking up at Steve with a smile.

"Well, there have been some threats to the Earth from alien races with great power," Steve said. "SHIELD— the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division — decided to pull as many of the non-mutant superheroes as it could find into one team in order to defend the Earth from their attacks."

"Wow," Tony said, "I cannot believe you just made us, you made _the Avengers_ , sound boring." Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Tony shushed him. "Look, I'm a supergenius who made the Iron Man armor, which does all the flying around you saw today plus a whole lotta damage. Steve here is a serum enhanced World War Two hero who put himself on ice for the last seventy years until SHIELD thawed him out. And we are the boring third of the Avengers."

The elevator opened, and Tony continued as he led them through Bruce's quarters to the lab. "You're about to meet Bruce, who is almost as smart as me and also tends to get big and green if you piss him off. He and Thor — the god we mentioned earlier — are the brute strength third of the Avengers. Now be quiet, I want to make Bruce jump." Tony keyed in his code and the lab door slid open without a noise.

"Bruce, we're here," Steve called. It was less out of fear of the Hulk (although Steve did fear the Hulk, as all sane people did,) and more out of compassion for Bruce. Steve hated being sneaked up on, especially Tony's brand of sneaking: hiding until he was bored and decided to grab your attention with an explosion.

"Did you not hear me just say, 'be quiet?' Your ninety year old ears are catching up to you, Steve," Tony said.

"Hi, guys," Bruce said, waving them over to his computer. He had been able to avoid rift duty because SHIELD didn't like letting the Hulk out unless the world was already in crisis. He seemed to have used his time well; he had the frantic glow of invention on his face. He also had some pizza grease on his chin. "Guess what? I think I found something that will hold the other guy!"

"Great! How does it work?" Tony said, flipping through Bruce's notes on the display.

"We talked about using radiation as a dampener before, but I dismissed it as too risky. I can't control the effects of a dose large enough to stop transformation forever, and the other guy comes out whenever I toy with the idea long enough. But I realized, instead of going after the DNA responsible, I could — "

"Take out any deviant mRNA with a tuned dosage that would fade out after time. Yeah, it could work, give you a few hours reprieve if you needed it," Tony said. "But how do we test it?"

Bruce smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Usually, I just make it and take it. If it doesn't work, the big man will come out to play for a while." He paused, eyes going hard and smile growing fierce. "It never works."

Tony put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “When are you going to try it?”

“I’m synthesizing it now. It should be ready tomorrow.”

Leonard shoved in beside them, jabbing at the screen. "Those chemicals are toxic even at the lowest levels. You can't seriously be considering putting this into your body."

"Hi," Bruce said. "I am, actually. And if you don't mind, who are you?"

"Oh, good, right, yeah, these guys." Tony grinned. "Guess who they are. Hint: they popped out of Reed's wormhole."

"Dimensional rift," Steve and Jim chorused. Tony just chuckled.

"Um…" Bruce looked them over. "I have no idea."

"Say something, Doc," Tony said, poking Leonard in the ribs.

"Like what? I'm a doctor, not an orator," Leonard said, glowering at Tony.

"Oh my God, you are too perfect," Tony said. "Tell me you know now."

"No?" Bruce said.

Tony danced with impatience. "You're killing me here, Banner. Another hint: marathons on VHS."

Bruce pointed to the insignia on Leonard's uniform. "Wait, I know this. Marathons. It's from Stargate? Did a stargate just open up here?" Bruce grinned wildly. "That would be amazing."

"No!" Tony said. "First, that would not be amazing. We deal with plenty of people trying to take over the world as is, we do not need another crazy alien portal onto Earth. Second, turn in your geek card for not watching Star Trek."

"Oh, I watched Voyager," Bruce said. "Or at least, I watched Seven of Nine."

Tony stared at Bruce, eyebrows raised. "Stop talking."

"What, you asked if I watched Star Trek, and," Bruce laughed and shook his head, "I did, OK?"

"No. You did not watch 'Star Trek,'" Tony air quoted around the words, "You watched a knock off produced by money grubbing executives who took a great franchise and broke its back."

Bruce ran his hand through his hair and rested it against his jaw, and stared at Tony. He smiled, larger and brighter every moment, and Steve reached for Leonard and Jim to pull them toward the door.

Tony stepped closer to Bruce and tilted his head. "Seriously, Bruce, are you threatening people because of a slight to your Borg girlfriend's honor?" He asked it mildly, pursing his lips.

Bruce dropped his head back and sighed. "Fine. But who are these people?"

"I'm Captain James T. Kirk," Jim said, and pushed in front of Steve to offer Bruce his hand. Again, the lingering shake and the twinkle in his eyes. Steve fought the urge to laugh.

"And I'm Doctor Leonard McCoy," Leonard said, also offering Bruce his hand. His shake was brisk and appraising.

Bruce grinned. "I'm Doctor Bruce Banner. Tony, if you'd just told me who they were I would have recognized the names. So, you're real?"

"Completely," Jim said.

"I'm tired of people assuming I'm not," Leonard said.

"I really hope this isn't a prank, Tony, because if so, you put a lot of money in for me not to be very impressed," Bruce said. "So, you're — "

"Yeah, they're from the future but in a different universe. Oh, Bones, show him your tricorder, he'll like that," Tony said, then winked at Bruce as Leonard handed it to him. "Definitely impressive, no question about how impressive it is, just look at the size of that thing." Bruce and Leonard both shot Tony a sharp look, and Tony shrugged. "It's really small, OK, and it's better than a MRI."

Jim wandered over to Steve's side. "We're doing this again?" He gestured toward the three men hovering over the tricorder, dark heads crowded together as they oohed and ahhed. 

Steve shrugged. "This happens whenever they find new tech or make groundbreaking discoveries. You get used to it."

Jim smiled fondly and crossed his arms when Leonard snapped his fingers and pulled another gadget out of his belt. "I guess…Bones does this, sometimes, but Spock — well, most of the scientists on my ship, they don't get Bones."

"Why do you call him Bones?" Steve asked. "He doesn't seem too fond of the nickname."

"He went through a bad time. All he's got left are his bones," Jim said with a drawl, the side of his mouth curving up.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Seems unkind to remind someone of what they've lost."

Jim shrugged, still focused on Tony, Bruce, and Leonard. "More unkind to let someone forget what he's gained." He pursed his lips, and then looked at Steve and smiled. "Anyway, why are we talking about Bones when the two of us are right here?"

Steve covered his grin with his hand. "I'm not sure. So, Tony seems to know a lot about you, but I'm clueless. Where are you from?"

"That's easy. I'm from space," Jim said, with a leer.

"Me, too," Steve said, straight faced.

Jim frowned. "Thought you were from Brooklyn."

"Brooklyn's in space, when you think about it," Steve said.

Jim rolled his eyes. "The books did not mention your horrible sense of humor."

"You've read books about me?" Steve asked. Steve knew about the books; Tony had stocked his library with Captain America biographies and comic books because he enjoyed embarrassing Steve. He even pretended to read them from time to time and quoted ridiculous passages of hero worship to whomever would listen, all to add to Steve's mortification. The thought that some of that tripe would be around in another two hundred years was terrifying.

"Of course," Jim said. "I wrote the term paper in my History of the Americas class on you."

Steve sighed. "So, what part of space are you from?"

"I was born near the Klingon Federation border, but I grew up in Iowa," Jim said.

Steve let the first part of the sentence go untouched. "I've been to the State Fair in Des Moines, it's beautiful. Lots of…" Women, he thought, lots of Iowa girls who wanted Captain America, and a few men, too. He didn't want to start talking about his past. "Corn."

"Hasn't changed," Jim said with a laugh.

"What do you do now? Other than fall through wormholes."

"Dimensional rift!" Tony said, loudly, still seemingly absorbed in his analysis of Leonard's tricorder. Steve grinned at him, and Tony flashed him a smile.

Jim put his hands in his pockets. "Well, I'm the captain of a starship on an exploratory mission, trying to find new life forms. It's often my privilege to make first contact."

"With your dick," Bruce said. "Ho-oh!"

Tony gave him a high five. "I thought you said you didn't watch the show."

"Don't need to. I have the internet."

"I would never have imagined," Steve said, a little more quietly, grinning at Jim.

"To be honest," Jim said, putting his hand on Steve's back and leaning in. "First contact isn't normally _this_ pleasurable."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," Steve said, letting out his Brooklyn accent and batting his eyelashes. Bucky and Ma always said he did a great Curly. Here it was hit and miss; Tony was chortling helplessly while Jim only had a polite smile on his face.

"He does," Leonard said. He pulled away from Bruce's workstation. "As much fun as it is to violate the Prime Directive by showing you my medkit, I have a meeting in four weeks and I was told you could get us home."

"And how am I going to do that?" Bruce asked.

Tony patted Bruce's shoulder. "You're going to adjust one of their communicators so it can send messages back and forth between our universes. And then Scotty'll beam them up."

"That easy, eh?" Bruce laughed.

"Should be," Jim said. "Spock did it in four days without a fancy lab."

"Spock's the one with the eyebrows, right?" Bruce said, flicking his finger toward his brow.

"He's Vulcan, yes," Jim said.

"And he's really not a good bar for how quickly this can be accomplished," Leonard added. "He just published a book on the physical differences between alternate universes."

"Really?" Jim asked. "He hasn't said anything about it to me."

"You went to the party for the book release," Leonard said.

Jim shook his head. "No, I didn't…wait, was that why the science bay had cake in it last week?"

Leonard stared at Jim, mouth twisted sourly and eyes despairing. It reminded Steve of Pepper, Jim Rhodes, Agent Coulson, Director Fury, and everyone else who had expected Tony Stark to have a handle on basic human interaction. Steve himself had worn the expression a time or two.

"Wow, publishing's a big deal, and isn't Spock, like, your best friend? I cannot believe you missed that," Tony said, smirking. "But remembering cake: there's the Captain Kirk I know."

"Alright," Bruce said. "Give me a communicator and get out of my lab so I can work. And, Tony?"

"Yeah?" Tony said, gathering up Leonard's things and stuffing them into his pockets.

Bruce took Leonard's proffered communicator and pointed at Tony. "I expect you to save your work on these things in our shared files. I promise, I won't file a patent if you don't."

"Of course _I_ won't. Stark Industries will. But we’ll donate as many as we can, sound good?"

"Great." Bruce nodded. "See you tonight."

Steve led the way back to the elevator, unfastening his helmet now he knew they'd be home at least until the next call. He left the cowl up; he was alright with Tony seeing cowl hair because Iron Man hair was worse, but he wasn't showing it off to the handsome space men. "Where are we putting Leonard and Jim?"

"Penthouse," Tony answered, and snagged Steve's helmet. "Hey, give me that. You shouldn't have to squint so much, you're the team leader, you need to be able to see what we're doing. Retractable visor or shades, which would look cooler, the shades would look cooler."'

"Tony — " Steve said, holding his hand out for the helmet, but Tony batted his hand away and held the helmet up. Like that removed it from Steve's reach.

"No, you'll like it, I swear, even Coulson will like it. I will make him approve it before I hand it back to you, alright?"

Steve pressed the elevator button. "No, Tony. Don't you have more pressing issues? I was there when Pepper called you this morning." He had deeply enjoyed watching Tony literally squirm.

"Nothing more pressing than your comfort," Tony said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Nice one," Jim said, crowding Steve in the elevator again. "Although, it was a little obvious."

Tony scoffed. "More obvious than, and I quote, 'First contact isn't normally this pleasurable,'? I don't think so."

"Really? My approach doesn't do it for you, Steve?" Jim asked.

"Not a chance when he lives with Tony Stark, Master of the Line," Tony said.

"Oh, goody. I'm stuck in a box with two people with delusions of grandeur." Leonard said, under his breath.

"No, let Steve answer," Jim said, putting his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Come on, Steve, who has the better lines, me or the master?"

Steve held out his hands. "I can't answer objectively. Tony's my best friend and I just met you."

Tony grinned. "I'm your best friend? Wow, I have not been taking advantage of that and it clearly means you should choose me."

"It just means your lines aren't as fresh to the Captain, right?" Jim said.

"I wouldn't say that," Steve said. "Tony's lines are pretty fresh."

"In the interest of being helpful to those of us not from around here, he means raunchy," Tony said.

"Maybe he means they stink," Leonard said.

Jim began to say something, but went quiet as the elevator door slid open to reveal Tony's penthouse. The lines were beautiful — all three levels organized around a curving staircase leading to Iron Man's disassembly platform — but the details had gone unfinished after Pepper and Tony's break up. The ideas were there: a square of tiles in the middle of the floor ready for a fountain, mahogany doors with exposed circuitry where a keypad would be installed, and the dining area had a printed out picture of an ornate wooden table taped to the wall above the three card tables the team used.

But, despite its beauty and its failings, it was home. Steve had his own floor, just below this, and the only rooms that saw any use were his bedroom, the attached bathroom, and the gym. The whole team used his gym, even though they had their own floors and workout equipment. For everything else done in their off time, they shared the penthouse.

Steve was as proud as Tony when Leonard whistled as they stepped off the elevator.

"Welcome," Tony said, with a bow and a flourish, "to my humble abode." Well, maybe Steve wasn't that proud. "Let me, no, actually, let JARVIS show you to your rooms, I'm busy."

" _If you would walk this way, gentlemen,_ " JARVIS said, and all the lights dimmed except for a path up the stairs. Tony started humming a song under his breath.

"Really?" Jim said, glancing at Steve.

"Yes," Steve said, nodding. "I'll let you get settled in. JARVIS will tell you anything you need to know, and if you need me or Tony, just tell JARVIS and he'll get us."

"Yup!" Tony said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "You've got free rein of the place, just remember: JARVIS sees all and JARVIS reports to me. If you don't like it, you can go out the lobby and don't let the door hit you on the way out. It won't, by the way, it's a Stark Industries door. I programmed it to be polite." He nodded at Leonard, who nodded back.

"I don't know — " Jim said.

Leonard held up a hand. "Are we chained to the wall? No. Did anyone try to kill us? No. Do you still have your shirt on? By the grace of God, yes. We're fine, Jim, don't complain the nice robot is taking care of us instead of the handsome men."

"But I prefer the handsome man," Jim said.

"Men, Bones said men, that includes me. Thank you, Bones, I always liked you best," Tony said, taking Steve by the elbow and steering him toward the elevator. "Bye now, see you later, don't break my shit."

"So," Steve said once the elevator doors had closed, "Did you clear them staying here with Fury?"

"No? Why would I do that?" Tony said, and they were already at Steve's apartment. Steve expected Tony to stay in the elevator and go down to his workshop, but he stood in the door and waited, looking at Steve. "Can I come in?"

"Of course. Why are you asking?" Steve pulled his cowl down and shook his head.

"Just didn't want to intrude, hate being an intruder," Tony said, examining his cuticles.

"It's your tower, you can go where you want," Steve reminded him. He walked to his room and Tony followed, slowing occasionally to adjust a picture frame. Steve's apartment had not suffered the same fate as Tony's penthouse; everything was exactly how Tony had wanted it to be, which was close enough to how Steve wanted it to be that he had no complaints.

Steve leaned his shield against the left side of his bed, eschewing the lit recess in the wall — the shield wasn't for display. He'd framed a poster of Mary Cassatt's Little Girl in a Blue Armchair and put it in the recess instead.

Steve pulled off his gloves and belt, laying them on the bed. Tony lounged in the doorway, fiddling with Steve's helmet, and Steve smiled at him. "Why'd we stop at Reed's if you knew he wasn't going to be able to send them home?"

Tony shrugged. "Wanted to watch him jizz himself meeting Captain Kirk."

"I take it this was a popular show," Steve said, struggling with the hidden zipper under his right arm. The tab was so tiny he could barely get his fingers around it, and half the times he did, he snapped it off.

"Yes and no," Tony said. "It's notorious for attracting science-minded people with no social lives."

"Oh. That explains Reed." Steve said, finally able to ease the zipper open. He shivered a little at air moving across his skin as the uniform parted at his side. It'd been too hot for an undershirt today, even though the uniform itself would have to be cleaned. It was due, anyway. He tossed the shirt on the bed, and bent down to take off his boots. "But why'd you watch it, Tony?"

"Hmm?" Tony said, distractedly, probably playing on his phone.

Steve turned to look at Tony as he pulled his boots off. Tony was not playing with his phone, or messing around with Steve's helmet, or even twitching to do something the way he always did. He was staring at Steve's ass. Steve smiled. "You have a social life."

"Yes, I did," Tony said, eyes glazed.

Steve unfastened his pants and took them off, a little slower than he would if he didn't have an audience, but not slowly or showily enough to be stripping. He was wearing bike shorts under the uniform, but they left only skin tone to the imagination. Steve carefully folded his pants and put them on his bed.

"Is it hot in here?" Tony asked, suddenly bursting back into life, pulling at the collar of his tee shirt, walking to the window and back to the door. "It seems a little warm, JARVIS, what's the room temperature, is the AC working?"

"Seventy-eight degrees, sir," JARVIS answered.

"That's really warm," Tony said.

"Maybe it's just you," Steve said, then gestured over his shoulder to the bathroom. "I'm gonna hit the shower, get rid of the cowl hair."

"Yeah, OK, I'll wait, I'll be out here, I need to call someone anyway." He nearly ran from the room.

Steve took a fast shower. Tony was smart, it shouldn't take long for him to come to grips with the situation. Steve was looking forward to that, had been for a while. He'd downplayed his attraction to Tony because of Pepper, and then because of the break-up; but if Tony was going to act like it was the end of the world because Steve was flirting with someone else, then Steve might as well flirt with Tony.

He wrapped his towel around his waist and combed his hair before he exited the bathroom. He was a little surprised Tony wasn't waiting for him in the bedroom, but he shrugged it off and dressed. It was the team's dinner night; so he put a little care into his appearance, choosing dark suit trousers and a light blue dress shirt. No one else dressed for dinner, but he preferred the tradition of dressing nicely for the people he cared about.

He was sitting on the bed, pulling on his socks, when Tony stuck his head in the door. "Hey, you're clean," he said, meandering over to Steve with his hands in his pockets.

"Yep," Steve said, and tossed a shoe from one hand to the other before putting it on. "I trust your judgment, Tony, but is it really a good idea to leave those two alone?

"They're not alone; JARVIS is with them." Tony twitched a little, then picked up Steve's gloves and sat down on the bed. "Besides, how else will we find out who they really are?"

Steve put on his other shoe, watching out of the corner of his eye as Tony stroked the fingers of his glove. "You don't think they're who they say they are?"

Tony shrugged. "I think it's possible. We've seen enough weird shit I would believe it if Barney showed up and asked me to give him a hug."

Steve nodded. He had become very skilled at recognizing and understanding a reference without having any idea where it originated. "But you're not sure."

"Of course not. But I figure, if they're psycho aliens who monitor our media and decided to take these forms to become our kings, the safest place to keep them is with the Avengers. And if they're who they say they are, they need people who can help them. And again…" He held his hands out, Steve's gloves flopping from them.

"The Avengers," Steve agreed.

"Well, it's either us or the X-men, and frankly, we're cooler." He put on one of Steve's gloves and flexed his fingers. "Wow, you have big hands."

Steve shrugged. "Better to grab you with, I guess."

Tony looked at him, amused. "That was bad. That was horrible. That was, well, don't ever do it again."

"You come up with something better, then," Steve said.

"What sort of thing are we looking for?" Tony asked. "Are you threatening me? 'Better to strangle you with,'" he said, lowering his voice.

"Not threatening," Steve said, trying not to smile.

"Oh, nonthreatening," Tony said, and looked at the ceiling for a moment, then snapped his fingers and growled even lower. "'Better to tickle you with, my dear.'"

Steve laughed, shaking his head. "I do not sound like that, and it's still a threat."

"Oh, I didn't know you were ticklish," Tony said, waggling his eyebrows and leaning toward Steve, wiggling his gloved fingers.

Steve evaded his hand and stood, backing away. "I didn't say that."

Tony dropped the glove and stood, following Steve. "Better to grab you with, you did say that."

"I did," Steve said, stopping his retreat and holding out his hand.

Tony hesitated. "Are you feeling alright, Cap? Frankly, you've been acting weird all day and I'm a little worried about mind control."

Steve let his hand drop to his side. "I'm fine, Iron Man. I gotta go, it's my night to get dinner."


	2. Leonard

[ ](http://s1102.photobucket.com/albums/g453/ellipsisthegreat/Guide/?action=view&current=BonesPBMarker.png)

Leonard sat in the room the disembodied robot said was his, looked at the padd the robot said he could use, and wondered why every universe hated him. He had two precious months of shore leave, one month to spend seeing just how much Saurian brandy he and Jim could imbibe without any responsibilities pressing on them, and the other month to spend with Joanna on Earth. He'd been looking forward to this shore leave since before the Enterprise left space dock two and a half goddamn years ago.

But Jim had to drop by Deep Space Three first, had to take the transporter, had to flirt with a man wearing the most ridiculous outfit Leonard had ever seen — that was really saying something considering Leonard's wealth of experience — and now Leonard was in a world where Captain America and Anthony Stark were alive and well, and Leonard was a fictional character.

He probably shouldn't, but he searched the padd's database for the show Stark said they were from. He watched a few clips, wrinkling his nose at the way Jim was portrayed as pompous and overconfident and Spock as conflicted and easily led. He stopped watching when he came to himself, a lonely curmudgeon armed with sarcasm and hyposprays. Whichever asshole had told these stories certainly had his number.

He stood, clasping his hands behind his back, and paced the room. He wanted to talk to Jim, but Jim had disappeared into his room, angry because Leonard had agreed with Stark. Jim hated being out of control. But there was no controlling this situation. Jim and Leonard were intelligent enough, but neither of them were physicists. They needed help, and these people seemed inclined to give it.

" _Doctor McCoy, are you in need of assistance?_ " the robot asked.

"You could say that," Leonard said, more to himself than to the robot.

" _Care to elaborate?_ "

Leonard stopped walking, and looked at the ceiling. "Sure, but I doubt you'll help me. Can you rip a hole in space-time and take me home?"

" _Unfortunately not, but I can tell you Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark are concentrating their efforts on doing so._ "

"Great," Leonard said. "Now, if only I knew who they were and if they're capable of what needs to be done, I'd feel a lot better."

" _I could list their academic achievements and published papers, if you wish._ "

"It's alright," Leonard said, holding up a hand. "I need a drink."

" _If you'd like to follow me to the sitting room, sir, there are a good number of beverages available to you._ "

Leonard shrugged. "Might as well." The lights dropped until only his bedroom door was illuminated. He picked up his padd and went out the door. "You know the worst thing about this?"

" _What is that, Doctor McCoy?_ "

"Following a bunch of talking lights around isn't the craziest thing I've done." The pathway led him up the stairs to the highest level and into a room with a large viewscreen and an almost as large liquor cabinet. Jim was sitting on a couch, glass of water in hand.

"Talking to yourself rates up there, Bones," Jim said, barely looking up at him.

Leonard searched through the liquor cabinet. "Even that's not as crazy as putting you back together every other day."

"No Saurian brandy, I'm afraid," Jim said.

"I suppose even bourbon would be too much to ask," Leonard said, looking around decanters of every other type of poison.

" _Ah, there is a bottle of Maker's Mark to your left, sir._ " Leonard resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. Stark's robot was no different than the shipboard computer, only more goddamn talkative. And more helpful, he thought, as he spotted a red seal over deep amber.

He poured two fingers into the bottom of an ornate tumbler, put the bottle carefully back into its place, and lifted the glass. He closed his eyes and inhaled; it'd been too long since he'd been seduced by the sweet cinnamon burn. He pressed the glass to his mouth and tilted it up, intoxicated with the taste of the first heady drop.

"Don't drink too much, Bones, we're going for a walk," Jim said.

Leonard winced as he swallowed and turned to Jim. "And why's that?"

Jim put his glass on an end table. "I don't trust Stark and I want to see if he's telling the truth."

Leonard drank the rest of his bourbon in two swallows, glad for the fast burn, and wiped off his mouth. "Alright, but how are you going to explain that to your new friend? You know, the guy with the stars and the muscles?"

"Hey, JARVIS," Jim said, and Leonard looked around the room.

" _How may I assist you, Captain Kirk?_ " Oh, right.

"Tell Captain Rogers…" Jim paused, then smiled at Leonard. "Tell him I'll see him later."

" _Yes, sir._ "

"Come on, Bones, let's go exploring," Jim said, jumping to his feet, leading the way down the stairs to the elevator.

"We're on shore leave from exploring," Leonard grumbled. "I should be drunk as a skunk right now, watching you get shot down."

Jim smiled, pushing the lowest button in the elevator. "Why you always watch when you could be getting shot down yourself is a mystery to me."

Leonard shrugged. "I enjoy a good show." He did like watching Jim in action, smiling, oozing charm, always going for the most attractive person (or people) in the room, and rarely falling short. Hell, Jim was one private moment away from landing Captain America, hero of yesteryear's legends, and for all his complaining, Leonard was happy to have a front row seat. It wasn't psychologically healthy (in fact, it was probably easily diagnosed as Stockholm syndrome,) but Leonard stored up the lines and sometimes put them to use during personal, after-hours recreation where he played the role of a Jim Kirk conquest.

He couldn't be blamed. No one was immune to Jim Kirk; not even the walking computer. Spock took every opportunity available to talk about what an intelligent, irreplaceable person Jim was as a captain and a friend. The only person who didn't moon over him was Lieutenant Uhura, and her spite was only out of habit. Leonard had seen the way she looked at him when he was in his element, making the universe bow to his will.

They ended up in the garage level, and Jim went immediately to the automobile he'd been drooling over earlier. Len left him to it, instead going through the door Tony Stark had pointed out earlier as the entrance to his lab and was immediately assaulted by very loud music and very violent language coming from Stark himself.

Leonard knew better than to touch anything in another person's laboratory, so he folded his arms to keep himself from touching the holographic displays Stark had thrown haphazardly through the room. They weren't very tempting to Leonard, anyway; he'd seen three labs today and only Banner's — displays of rudimentarily drawn but recognizable biological chemicals ready to be manipulated and observed — was his type. Stark had blueprints, alloys, and the mathematics Leonard had always accepted as the necessary evil of science brought clear delight to Stark, if the number of impossible equations hanging in the air meant anything.

"Hey, doc!" Stark shouted, interrupting his own cursing midsentence as he looked up from a display showing cross sections of Leonard's communicator. "JARVIS, music off."

The sound faded and Leonard came in closer. "Hi, Stark. I need my medkit back, if you don't mind."

"Sure," Tony said, pulling Leonard's regenerator and hypospray out of his pockets. "I scanned them in already, just in case you had a guilt trip and took them to avoid breaking the future as I assume is what is happening now."

"Nope," Leonard said. "Jim decided we were going to head out, see the sights, and I'm not going anywhere in this century without my medkit. I know what you people consider medical treatment."

Stark tapped his chin, then jumped into action, handing Leonard his supplies before stepping over to a mostly blank display. "You also need a cell phone. And money. And fake IDs, it's been a little while since I've done one and those holographs are crazy, but if I do Georgia and Iowa instead of New York, no one will pay any attention as long as you don't do anything illegal or weird, but what am I talking about, this is Captain Kirk, Jesus, he just does what he wants."

"Tell me something I don't know," Leonard said.

"Smile," Stark said, staring at his display, chewing a piece of gum loudly, and Leonard raised an eyebrow. "No, don't smile, do that, that's perfect, I love it. Metaphorically say cheese."

"Cheese?" Leonard asked.

"I said metaphorically, but it's ok, I got it in time, don't worry." Stark had a picture of Leonard, looking annoyed and amused on the display and was wiping the lab in the background to white. "You're, what, thirty? When's your birthday?" Stark asked.

"This feels like an interrogation, and even in the best of circumstances, flattery will get you nowhere." Leonard felt out of the loop, something he didn't normally experience unless Jim Kirk was on a hare-brained scheme with a high likelihood of death and was too afraid of Leonard's wrath to bring him up to speed. Stark was a completely different kettle of fish; he seemed to get off on discombobulating others.

Stark grinned at him. "Fortunately, I don't actually need you to answer. JARVIS, when's Doctor McCoy's birthday?"

" _Memory alpha lists Doctor McCoy's birth year as twenty-two twenty-seven, no day or month listed._ "

"How on God's green earth do you know that?" Leonard said, horrified.

"Go to beta," Stark said, snapping his gum.

" _Memory beta lists his birthdate as the twentieth of January._ "

"And just when I was starting to think your robot in the sky could read minds," Leonard said, and leaned against a counter that wasn't too covered in pieces of metal.

"Roddenberry must've really known his shit. Too bad he didn't share his source," Tony said. "So, what is it?"

"I'm not answering that," Leonard said, mainly because he wanted to know what Stark would do when actually rejected.

Apparently, Stark would just work around it. "Fine, your new, or old, birthday, depending on how you want to look at it, I guess, is January twentieth, nineteen eighty. You're, oh, one hundred eighty pounds, six foot one, you live at my Georgia stables, and of course you're an organ donor. Alright, looking good, JARVIS, let's print this puppy out."

" _Certainly, sir,_ " the robot answered — Leonard did not care that it had a name or that it sounded more human than Spock, it was a goddamn robot — and Stark walked over with a grin on his face, dropped Leonard's tools on the counter, and pressed himself against Leonard's front.

"Excuse me?" Leonard said, tilting himself away, but the counter behind him kept him from going anywhere.

"Well," Stark said, "I wasn't lying before when I said you were my favorite, and that was when a forty-fifty-sixty-something was playing you. I am not passing up a tall, handsome Bones." He walked his fingers up Leonard's side.

"Don't be ridiculous," Leonard said, grabbing Stark's hand and holding it away. "What sort of fool do you take me for?"

Stark grinned. "The kind who hasn't gotten laid in a few years."

"I'm gonna ignore that crack. Besides, I could've sworn you were googly-eyed over Captain America," Leonard said, releasing Stark's hand.

Stark's smile froze, then he laughed. "Who isn't? And you're into Captain Kirk, which almost makes me reconsider my attraction to you as he's an asshole."

"So are you," Leonard said, without ire. Jim was what he was.

Stark nodded. "But I know I'm an asshole. I tell everyone who will listen I'm an asshole. I tell everyone up front that if I need to, or, if I just feel like it, I'm gonna screw 'em over." He paused, then a delightfully evil look came into his eyes. "So, Bones, you gonna let me screw you over?"

Leonard shook his head, but put his hands on Stark's waist, testing the feel of his threadbare shirt over compact muscle. "Why don't we start somewhere a little less complicated?"

"Sure, I guess, if that's what you want, but I'm just gonna put it out there, we don't have a lot of time, Bruce and I are, well, not immediately close to figuring out the frequency — "

Leonard leaned down with the intention of shutting Stark up, and kissed him. It worked for a moment, Stark's lips pressing against his, almost immediately opening up for Leonard's tongue.

It didn't last long. "Mmm," Stark hummed into Leonard's mouth as Stark went up on his tiptoes, pressing his weight into Leonard. "Mmm, you found the bourbon," he said, not waiting for a pause in the kiss, just talking into it.

"Bones?" Stark said, and Leonard was beyond annoyed to have Stark call him what Jim had named him, so he moved one hand to the back of Stark's neck, angling him deeper. It had really been too long since Leonard had gotten laid if the way his dick was already rock hard against Stark's belly meant anything.

"Bones, what are you doing?"

That wasn't Stark. Stark's tongue was too far down Leonard's throat for him to possibly be speaking. Leonard eased back, face burning, and Stark rolled his hips against Leonard's with a whine. "Where are you going, where are you going," he asked, kissing the side of Leonard's neck.

Jim was standing in the doorway of Stark's lab, face white. Leonard had never seen Jim look so out of place, but he sounded composed enough. "Let's go, Bones."

Leonard could feel Stark's grin against his neck for a moment, then Stark turned his head to face Jim. "JARVIS, if you would get Captain Fine's picture and whip up an Iowa license for him. He's, what, five-eleven and one hundred ninety-five pounds, birthdate is March twenty-second nineteen seventy-eight. And he has to wear glasses to drive." Leonard snorted, trying not to laugh.

Jim turned red. "Come on, we don't have time for this."

"Actually, I was trying to say earlier, doc, before you so rudely interrupted me, we probably have a few days, at least a week, two weeks tops." Stark put his hands on Leonard's sides but shifted back a little, and Leonard realized Stark was covering for him, hiding his erection and giving him space to calm down before actually facing Jim.

"That long, huh," Leonard said, smiling at Stark. "But the good news is Stark's giving us money and identification for our expedition."

"And cell phones, don't forget cell phones, I make those, they're nice, and don't call me Stark, especially not after proving that kissing gets better in the future." Tony gave him a smacking kiss, and Leonard blushed again.

"We don't need your charity," Jim said.

Leonard glared at him. "Don't be ridiculous."

"We've always made it on our own just fine." Jim's tone brooked no argument, but that had never stopped Leonard.

"'Just fine' is not how I'd describe it," Leonard said, patting Tony's side and stepping toward Jim. "I don't want another recreation of Regulus Eight."

"Come on, flyboy, don't worry about it. I'm a billionaire and this is a drop in the bucket. Besides, if I don't do charity, people will lynch me," Tony said. "JARVIS, you done with those yet?"

" _In the printer to your left, sir_ ," the robot answered.

"We're leaving now. That's an order." Jim turned on his heels and walked back out to the garage.

Leonard shrugged at Tony. "That was an order," he said.

"I heard it," Tony said. "But I can at least load you up so you don't end up living under a bridge." He pulled two plastic identification cards from a printer and handed them to Leonard with a wad of old-fashioned money from his pocket. "I would give you my credit card, but one, you're not Tony Stark and everyone would know it, and two, purchases on it could be tracked."

"Thank you," Leonard said, surprised at his honestly.

"Well, here's the deal. I'm not tracking you through your purchases, but I am going to give you this." He handed Leonard a small padd. Leonard touched the screen and it lit up, showing him dozens of icons and tiny faces. "This is my personal cell phone, and I can track it. I won't, unless you get into trouble, but I'll understand if you don't want to keep it on you. Just, know where it is and don't throw it in a trash can or something."

Leonard nodded. "How do I use it?"

"Best way is to get ahold of JARVIS. Press the button on the side there," Tony said, pushing on the button to make his point, "and talk. JARVIS will hear you. Whoever you need, he'll patch you through." He tucked the cell phone into Leonard's pocket and kissed him again. "Should I walk you out?"

"I don't know, you seem to have an adverse effect on Jim," Leonard said.

"Oh, I should definitely walk you out," Tony said with a shit-eating grin, propelling Leonard toward the door. "I love having adverse effects on people."

"I had no idea," Leonard said, and Tony laughed.

"Did I mention you're my favorite, because you're definitely up there," Tony said. They came out into the garage, where Jim was sitting on the hood of the Corvette, looking more like himself. Stark grimaced. "Get off my car before you dent it."

"Sure, toss me the keys and I'll drive her instead," Jim said, leaning back against the windshield. He had a sultry smirk on his face.

"Goddamn it," Leonard said. "No."

Stark jerked a thumb at Leonard. "I agree with this guy. No."

"Too bad, Mr. Stark," Jim said, sliding off the hood. "JARVIS, start the car."

"Hold up, did you just tell JARVIS what to do?" Stark said. "See, and I thought you — "

" _Enjoy your drive, Captain,_ " the robot said, and the car started with a roar.

" — were smart," Tony concluded, sounding as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

Jim stroked the automobile's frame from the headlight to the door handle and paused, throwing his dirtiest smile at Tony. "Seems you were right."

Leonard closed with Jim and said, as calmly as he could, "We're not going to take his car without permission, Jim."

Jim put a hand on Leonard's shoulder, and looked around him to Tony. "No, we're not. I'm just making a point."

"And what point is that," Tony said, completely still.

"Jim's an asshole," Leonard said, pushing away Jim's hand. "I'm certain we all knew that already."

Jim clutched at his chest, grinning in mock agony. "From my best friend, too."

"No, I want to know what his point is, doc," Tony said, taking a step closer. "I'd really like to hear why my guest took advantage of me."

"It's obvious," Jim said. "I just wanted to remind you: you're not as good as you think you are."

"Alright," Tony said, his fingers tapping against his thighs. "Alright, I get it, but before you leave — on your own two feet, Kirk, I'll blow that car up before I let you drive it — I'd like to point out I could crush you for the fun of it. I could have you thrown in jail on my say-so. I could tell a few stories about your dick and no one would ever touch it again. I could even go in the other room, put on my suit, and squish you with my foot."

"Then why don't you try?" Jim said, nostrils flaring.

"Because, a, I am as good as I think I am, and, b, you aren't worth it. Now, skedaddle before you actually piss me off." Tony turned on his heel to walk back to his lab.

"Wonderful job, Jim, you just angered the man who could get us home," Leonard said to Jim.

Jim shook his head. "It isn't serious; no worse a prank than when the shipboard computer flirted with us."

Leonard snorted and opened his mouth to tear Jim a new one when his pants began to vibrate and sing something about strength and the American way. Leonard put his hand in his pocket and found the culprit — the cell phone Tony had given him. Except now, its screen was lit up with a handsome face and the words, "Capsicle calling," and three options: "Accept," "Ignore," and "Let JARVIS take it."

He exchanged glances with Jim, then pressed the Accept button. "McCoy here."

"Tony, I can barely hear you," came the voice from the phone.

Leonard lifted the phone closer to his mouth. "This is McCoy."

" _Why do you have Tony's phone?_ " the voice demanded, and suddenly Leonard recognized the strong chin in the picture.

"He's letting us use it, Captain Rogers." Jim perked up at the name and looked over Leonard's shoulder.

" _Oh, really?_ " Rogers asked. " _That's surprising._ "

Jim pulled the phone toward himself. "How can we help you, Captain?"

" _I needed to talk to Tony about dinner, but don't worry about it. JARVIS told me you were going to see the sights. Enjoy yourselves, dinner's at seven._ " The phone flashed; the call had ended.

Leonard stared at it for a moment, then put it back into his pocket. "Well, let's go," he said to Jim. Jim looked longingly at the car for a moment, and Leonard grabbed his elbow. "No. No, goddamn it, no."

"Fine," Jim said. "JARVIS, turn the car off."

" _Yes, Captain_ ," the robot said, without its usual zing.

They walked to street level in silence, both brooding over Tony Stark, but Leonard was willing to bet his brooding was far preferable to Jim's. Leonard hadn't been so turned on from a simple kiss in his life. Maybe it had been too long, he thought, then he decided: no, Tony Stark was that good.

He had, in moments of weakness, imagined Jim's kisses feeling something like Tony's — only less dirty, good God in heaven, Tony was filthy in all the right ways — and he wondered, had to wonder, if Jim was as good as his hype. It felt like a small betrayal of friendship to even consider the possibility.

"Can you believe how insufferable that man is?" Jim asked, once they'd come out onto the street, turning left, away from the afternoon sun.

"I can't believe how insufferable you are," Leonard said. "What did you do to his computers?"

"It was really simple," Jim said. Leonard didn't believe him, but he didn't press the issue. "I looked for the administrator privileges and added myself to them."

Leonard shook his head. "What are we looking for out here, anyway." So many people milling around, he couldn't find a bearing.

"I don't know. Proof we are where they say we are?" Jim said.

Leonard touched the building at his side. "This is twenty-first century New York, or at least what it should have been."

"Maybe," Jim said.

"How can you fake a city?" Leonard asked.

"Holograms," Jim said. They came to an intersection, and rather than continuing across the street, Jim leaned against the side of the tower. "What happened to the Eugenics War?"

"You didn't look it up?" Leonard asked, and Jim flushed. "Oh, wait, you were too busy messing with Stark's computers."

"Drop it, Bones," Jim said, squatting down to look at screen. He pressed a button on its top, next to an indentation marked $.75. Leonard felt a chill when he realized it was a newspaper box. He'd seen one in a museum, once.

Leonard crossed his arms. "Not likely."

"You're letting your feelings for him cloud your judgment," Jim said.

"Even less likely," Leonard said. "I've only known the man a few hours and only talked to him once."

"That wasn't what I'd call talking." Jim stood again. "What were you thinking?"

Leonard raised his hand in frustration. "I don't know, Jim, weren't you just telling me to take a chance?"

Jim shrugged, focus on the traffic ahead of them. "I didn't mean with him. I didn't even know you liked men."

"I have something known as discretion," Leonard said, but it shook him a little. The science was in on sexual orientation: nine-tenths of humanity were attracted to attractive people, regardless of gender. How he had managed to convince Jim that he was the one out of ten, he didn't know; but he did understand the absurd hope effervescing over him. Maybe six years of being the only person Jim Kirk didn't sleep with was just a misunderstanding.

Jim met his eyes for a long moment, then his gaze flicked back to the street and skyline. "So why didn't they have the Eugenics War?"

"The same people and ideas were in place, but there was a group of mutated humans with extraordinary abilities who stopped it in its tracks. They have things, here, Jim, things we don't have, we never had. Mutants, superheroes, supervillains, _magic_ …" Leonard shuddered just thinking about it.

Jim scoffed. "I've seen enough so-called magic to know there's always a man behind the curtain."

"That's not much comfort when you're the one in red heels."

Jim smiled at him. "Just click 'em and take us home."

"I'm trying, Jim, but you're not helping." Leonard didn't make a list of how Jim wasn't helping, but if he had, Tony Stark would be at the top of it.

"I said to drop it," Jim said, but it didn't have the sharpness it had earlier. "Let's go," he said, and they joined the group of pedestrians crossing the street. Something struck Leonard as odd about the people. He searched their faces, wondering if it was because no one would meet his eyes, but he knew it was fairly typical for any big city. He realized, with a start, he was expecting to see blue stalks coming from people's heads or bright green skin. The various shades of melanin and humanoid features seemed to be lacking in variance.

They stopped at another intersection, surrounded by stores selling he didn't even know what, when he saw a street sign. "Jim," he said, grabbing his arm, "we're on Fifth Avenue."

"What?" Jim asked.

"Look," Leonard said, pointing down the street to a spire he'd seen thousands of times before, but only in history books and vids until today.

"What's with you and that building?" Jim said, but he couldn't take his eyes off of it, either. He shook his head, then started walking down Fifth Avenue. "Come on."

They walked a couple of blocks in silence. Leonard received more than a few strange looks, but he decided they were about his uniform, and ignored them. Jim stopped a few times to walk into a building and walk almost immediately back out, checking for facades. Each time, he came out looking a little easier, culminating in a stop at a jeweler's where he talked to the clerk, then returned to Leonard smiling and sauntering. "Guess what?"

"What's that," Leonard said, unable to keep from smiling back.

"If you want a good price for your Academy ring, she'll give you three hundred." Leonard covered his ring with his other hand, scandalized, and glared at the clerk through the window. "And she gets off shift in an hour," Jim said, wiggling his eyebrows as Leonard rolled his eyes. "And, most importantly, there's a library across the street."

Leonard had noticed the building, its marble architecture and grassy landscaping an oasis in a concrete desert, but he'd been too absorbed in watching the people around him for abnormal behavior to read "New York Public Library" over its doors. "How's that most important?"

"Think about it, Bones. If this is a trick Stark's made, it's too big. No hologram could be this big, look this detailed," Jim said, gesturing to the city around them. "And even if it were, why make it so different from what we know? Why would Steve Rogers and New York City be alive if this is supposed to lull us into believing him and giving something away?" 

"I don't know," Leonard said. "Frankly, I don't think we could give him anything he couldn't figure out for himself."

Jim's face went blank. "I doubt it."

Leonard rested a hand on his arm. "What's your point, Jim."

"My point is, we've been on a mission to figure out what's really going on, and at this point, the data we've found says Stark and Rogers weren't lying to us. Mission accomplished for the time being, and now I'm giving new orders: we're on shoreleave." Jim took Leonard's hand and pulled him to the crosswalk.

"Are you saying," Leonard said, breath shuddering — he must have been more out of shape than he thought — "we're on shoreleave and you want to go to a library?"

"Exactly, Bones," Jim said, eyes sparkling. It was really too warm out to be holding hands, Leonard thought, his hand was sweaty, and why again, was Jim holding his hand as they crossed the street?

Leonard decided it was a reasonable question to voice. "Why are you holding my hand?"

"Safety first, Bones, this is a busy street in a big city. Don't want to get lost." Jim said.

Leonard arched his eyebrows and pursed his lips as Jim looked at the lion sculptures on either side of the doors before they entered the library. The sheer number of real books on real paper, accompanied by a rich aroma that reminded Leonard of a good cognac, made Leonard dizzy and grateful for Jim leading the way through the stacks. He stumbled when Jim stopped short and dropped his hand to skim along the spines of medical tomes, cautiously tilt one out, and present it to Leonard.

"Gray's Anatomy," Leonard said, looking up at Jim, who smiled and pushed it into his hands. Leonard took it, tracing the edges of the cover, then cracked it open, half expecting pages to be fading and falling out the way they did in his father's copy. But this book, despite being twelve editions older than David McCoy's, was glossy and new, barely touched.

"You know, when I was a kid, I'd sneak my dad's copy out of his office and look at the reproductive system," Leonard said. Those pages had dropped out due to Leonard's misuse, and probably his dad's and his dad's dad before him. He flipped to the appropriate page, grinning at the grayscale images that had satisfied his curiosity until he'd truly hit puberty, then turned the book around to Jim.

Jim coughed, and turned red. "Now might be a good time to admit I stole your padd a few times at the Academy to play with the interactive version." Leonard tried to choke back his laughter, but couldn't. Jim turned to his side, looking up the aisle. "This is a library, Bones, show a little respect."

Leonard covered his mouth with his hand, and tried to calm down. "Sorry, Jim," he said, then burst out laughing again, his eyes burning as he wondered if his mother would think to send Dad's copy of Gray's to Joanna when Leonard didn't come home.

But it was ridiculous, Leonard realized as he mopped his eyes and began to catch his breath. Jim was with him, and they had a deal: Leonard kept Jim's hide together, and Jim took him home.

When he could trust his voice, he asked, "How did you find this?"

Jim looked scandalized. "Don't you know the Dewey Decimal System?"

Leonard grinned and flipped through the book. "All I know is 'the foot bone's connected to the knee bone.'"

"Exactly what I want to hear from my ship's surgeon," Jim said. "Come on, I want to see a few more things in here."

Leonard carefully slid the book into its place and followed Jim through the library, first to a Shakespeare collection, which Leonard thought of as pretentious, but bit the words back for once so Jim could bask in flipping through folios and throwing out lines. Leonard recognized most of them, even answered one with the next line from memory, which Leonard figured made him the pretentious one.

They went next to the history section, which included a biography of Captain America that focused on his exploits with the Avengers in the last year. Jim, of course, grabbed it immediately, then had the audacity to give Leonard the evil eye for picking up a book about Iron Man.

Then it was nineteenth century novels, paperbacks plucked from the shelves while Jim found his favorite passages in real print. Leonard leaned against the stacks and watched Jim holding the books closer and closer to his face as he became absorbed in them. "You do need glasses," he said when Jim put down Sea-Wolf after ten minutes.

"I don't think so," Jim said. "If you're just going to stand there and watch, let's go."

Leonard shrugged. "I could stay."

"No, you want to see the Empire State Building," Jim said, leading the way out of the library.

Leonard followed, putting his hands into his pockets and waiting until they were out on the street to start whistling. Jim rolled his eyes and elbowed him. "Thought you didn't like exploring."

Leonard grinned. "It seems mighty fine now that no one's trying to kill me."

"That just sucks the life out of things, Bones. Imagine how much better this city would look with a few Klingons."

"I'd rather not," Leonard said. "Speaking of over-muscled and brainless, are we eating dinner with Captain America?"

Jim squawked. "Captain America had a brilliant strategic mind in addition to incredible hand-to- hand fighting skills."

"Are you quoting the book you just read or your research paper?" Leonard asked, and Jim flushed.

"What are our options?" Jim asked, ignoring the question. "We can find jobs, find a place to live, and then work on our communicators ourselves. Or…" he paused.

Leonard knew where he was going. "Or we could accept Stark's help and go stay in a big tower with nice bourbon and Captain America."

"Exactly. Quite a dilemma."

"Jim," Leonard said, "I can get over Steve Rogers if you can get over Tony Stark."

Jim shook his head, ruefully. "Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"What do you mean?" Leonard said. "I don't have a problem with Tony."

"That's exactly what I mean," Jim said. "He's not your type. His ego is bigger than his tower."

Leonard stared at Jim for a moment. "You never met Joss, did you."

Jim bit his lip and stopped walking, but Leonard pointed to the skyscraper across the street, so tall it was nauseating.

They crossed the street, both of them craning their necks trying to see the top until someone bumped into Jim, muttering, "Goddamn tourists."

"Alright, I've seen it," Leonard said, and turned around. If he looked straight ahead, he could pretend the building wasn't so damn tall.

"Aren't we going to go in? Go up?" Jim asked.

"Why the hell would we do that?" Leonard said, stomach twisting at the notion.

"Why not?" Jim asked, gently taking Leonard's elbow and propelling him toward the door. "Stark's tower is almost this big and you've been to the top."

Leonard let Jim take him inside the door, but disengaged his arm from Jim's when he saw the line of people waiting for the elevators. "Thank you kindly, Jim, but I'll sit this one out."

"Well, I'm going," Jim said, smile diminishing. "I'm only in the twenty-first century once."

"That's overconfident," Leonard said, pulling Tony's money out of his pocket and handing it to Jim. "Go ahead, I'll wait here."

Jim attached himself to the line for tickets and made immediate friends with three very young women wearing shirts proclaiming their love for New York. Leonard shook his head and forced himself to look away.

The line shifted back and forth, people shuffling forward until they were crammed into the elevators to be consumed. A little girl with a mop of brown hair falling in her eyes caught Leonard's attention; he couldn't help smiling as she pulled on her parents' hands. He loved Jim, he truly did, but it'd take Joanna to make him ride on an elevator for fun.

Jim still had yet to buy a ticket when the girl and her family disappeared into the elevator. Leonard crossed his arms and examined his cuticles. This was going to take forever.

Someone with a cracking voice started shouting. "Hey, you in the blue!" Leonard held back his immediate reaction to leap in with a medkit — this wasn't Starfleet where yelling for someone in blue usually meant medical attention was necessary. "Hey, geek, nice shirt!"

Leonard looked up for a moment to see what bad parenting looked like, and was shocked to see the kid pointing at him. "Excuse me?"

The kid was a skinny little thing, probably fifteen, and he had a sparse little goatee trimmed like Tony's. "Nice shirt, geek!" Great, he was being mocked by a child prodigy.

Leonard looked at his uniform and back at the kid, who was wearing a shirt that read "Black Sabbath," whatever the hell that meant. "Same to you."

The kid ignored him in favor of poking at one of his friends and laughing, and then yelled, "What are you waiting for, Scotty to beam you up?"

Leonard glared at him, trying to decide between commenting on his squeaky voice or his drooling friends, but Jim piped up from his place in line, "And you're waiting for Iron Man to tell you he's your real father."

The kid sputtered. "Fuck you, man! Fuck you!"

Leonard covered his mouth with his hand and mumbled, "Thank you, Jim, for escalating the situation." He looked away from the kid, toward the elevators, and started to grin when he saw the little girl emerge, wrapped in an overcoat and asleep on her mother's shoulder.

"No, thanks," Jim said, and a few people snickered. Something was wrong. Leonard's gut wrenched as he watched the girl. She'd only been up there ten minutes, and she'd been wide awake before, talking and bouncing. Now, she was completely still and arms flopped to her sides instead of wrapped around her mother's neck. Where was the father, Leonard wondered. If the girl was sick, he would have come down, too. The mother was taller than Leonard remembered and headed very quickly toward the exit.

"Wait," Leonard said, but the lobby was too crowded to be heard. He trotted to the exit, trying to figure out what he could say to make her stop, what would assure him that the girl belonged to her. His hand itched toward his medkit, and he cursed as he realized he'd left his hypospray in Tony Stark's lab. Damn the man and his mouth.

Leonard did have Tony’s cell phone, though. He ran up to the woman as she walked toward an automobile and tapped her free shoulder, pushing the cell phone toward her with his other hand. "Excuse me, I think you dropped this." The woman wheeled around for a moment, shocked and angry as she shoved the phone away and turned quickly back again toward the street.

But it had been long enough for Leonard to see what he needed to. The girl's eyes were open, afraid, and streaming with tears, her mouth trembling but no sound came out. She'd been drugged.

The front door on the car opened and the woman rushed for it. Leonard ran, too, diving between her and it. "Get out of my way, asshole," the woman ordered, and a man inside the car cursed.

"Isn't it a little hot for that big coat, sweetheart?" Leonard asked the girl, whose eyes were still watering.

The woman flushed and tried to hold the girl with one arm as she searched in her pocket. "I'm calling the cops!"

"I can do that for you," Leonard said, and pressed the button on the side of his cell phone.

" _Enter query,_ " the robot said.

"Please call the authorities to the Empire — " he began, but the woman slapped something against his neck and his vision began to swim. He managed, "Goddamn it," before he dropped to his knees.

The woman shoved past him into the car, and he fell face first to the ground, head whirling. He heard the robot asking him for a new query, and he asked it, although his voice wasn't working right, to find Jim. Another voice came to him, reminded him of mint, vodka, something scratching against his lips. He couldn't understand what the voice was saying or how to shape words in response.

He realized he was being lifted, turned, and he remembered how, when trapped underwater, he was supposed to blow bubbles to find the way to the surface, but his lungs weren't under his control. Spots of reassuring blue appeared. Jim, of course, Jim. He tried to point to the car, to the little girl and the woman who had taken her, but his fingers didn't even twitch. Jim was talking, or maybe yelling, and Leonard probably should have calmed him down. Instead, he was lifted again, folded against something red, gold, and roaring.

Being trapped had never been on his laundry list of fears, but claustrophobia was very quickly coming into its own now that his body was its own sarcophagus. He was being carried away from Jim and away from the child who needed him like an infant, and he couldn't even blink. Another shift, and he was lying down. One circle of bright blue, Jim's blue, was there for a moment, and then it disappeared.

He didn't know how long it took for him to regain control. It seemed interminable until he saw a dark shape moving next to him and he felt pressure on the side of his neck. His eyes began to focus until the shape became Bruce Banner, kneeling sheepishly in front of him.

"Can you hear me now?"

Leonard tried to nod and was rewarded with a wiggle of his head.

"Sorry, I used your tricorder to find a diagnosis."

"Sorry?" Leonard said, and it came out alright, so he added, "My ass."

Banner ran his hand through his hair, eyebrows raised. "I really am, I needed to help but I didn't want to take the time to do blood work. Uh, I'm not a medical doctor."

Leonard laughed, sluggish and broken, before he remembered. "Where's Jim? The girl?"

Banner smiled crookedly. "Jim's out looking for the girl. He's with Steve and Tony."

"I should go," Leonard said, and pulled himself to a sitting position. Bile raced up his throat, but he was able to swallow it back down until he realized he was sitting on top of New York City, only a thin layer of glass separating him from the sky. He retched and Banner shoved a bucket into his hands.

The worst was over in a minute, and Banner took the bucket, nose wrinkled. "Lie down again, I'll dump this."

Leonard obeyed, sagging to his side on the very soft couch, and tried to examine the room without looking at the walls or lack thereof. The only thing he recognized was the staircase, spiraling out of the glass and into the sky to form Tony Stark's landing strip. "Oh, hell," he groaned as he realized the red and gold thing dragging him around earlier was Tony's armor, which had flown him from the street up to that little platform dangling in the air.

"What, you need the bucket again?" Banner asked.

Leonard swallowed and closed his eyes before answering. "Don't think so."

Banner rested a hand on Leonard's forehead. "I'm surprised you're still out of it. The compound I gave you should have reversed the effects immediately."

Leonard twiddled his toes, checking. "It worked fine. I'm just not so good with heights."

Banner chuckled, and brushed his hair back before pulling away. "Don't you live on a space ship?"

"Don't remind me." Leonard tried sitting up again, and the view was less oppressive now that he knew it would be there. "How'd you figure out my tricorder so fast?"

"It's just point and click," Banner said, "not too difficult to figure out."

"And my hypospray?" Leonard asked, seeing the familiar bulge in Banner's pocket.

"Plug and play." Leonard raised his eyebrows, and Banner waved his hand. "Tony already analyzed it. I only needed to whip up an antidote using your binding compound and lock it in."

Leonard had the beginnings of a speech on the foolhardiness of messing with other people's medical technology ready to blast when Tony, in his armor and carrying Jim like a bride, landed on the tower. The door opened, and JARVIS — the robot, Leonard corrected himself — said, " _Welcome._ "

"Put me down, Stark," Jim said, and Tony laughed and flipped his face plate up. "I don't see what your problem is, Captain Fine."

Jim pushed himself out of Tony's arms and stomped down the stairs into the tower. "I could have ridden with Steve."

"You already rode with Steve once. Wouldn't want you to get bored." Tony's armor flew off and away from him until he stood bare, seemingly naked despite the undershirt and jeans. He sauntered down the stairs behind Jim. "Hi, Bruce; always miss you when you're not in the action. Bones, glad to see you feeling better."

Leonard stood up, trying to keep his eyes away from Tony and failing miserably. "You find the girl?"

"No," Jim said.

"You're sure she was kidnapped," Leonard said, worried—yet hoping—he had misread the situation entirely.

“Yeah, her parents were devastated. You did good spotting it, but it’s in the NYPD hands now. They'll do fine. They always found me," Tony said, seemingly nonchalant.

"New York Police Department," Banner said in a quiet aside, and Leonard nodded.

"Oh, so you're a criminal?" Jim asked, showing his teeth in a facsimile of a smile.

"Pssh, no, not currently," Tony said, grinning back at Jim with the same sort of fierceness. "I was referring to the number of times I was kidnapped as a child. I forget you're so behind the times. Ahead of the times? Somehow, I think behind the times is more apropos."

Jim glared at Tony, and Tony smiled at him, showing his teeth. Leonard moved between them, hoping they didn’t come to blows.

"Hey, JARVIS, what did Steve make for dinner and did he turn the gas off?" Banner asked, as though he were alone in the room, not diffusing a volatile situation.

" _Please rephrase query,_ " the robot said.

"What's wrong, Stark? Your computer isn’t its witty self," Jim said, grinning.

" _Please rephrase query,_ " it said again.

"Just can it, alright? JARVIS is in safe mode," Tony said, nostrils flaring. "Steve was making lasagna and it's in the oven staying warm."

Banner nodded and put his hands in his pockets. "I'll set the table."

"Don't use paper plates or Steve'll pout," Tony said, widening his own eyes and wibbling his bottom lip for a moment. "And lecture us on respect for each other and the planet."

Banner huffed a laugh. "A fate worse than death, I know." He went down the stairs, whistling.

Jim came over to Leonard and put his hand on his shoulder "You feeling alright?"

"Other than the walls being obscenely translucent, I'm fine. I take it you didn't make it up the tower?"

Jim shook his head. "Mr. Stark offered me a ride without the wait, but I thought there were more pressing matters. You went down hard; you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Leonard said. They met each other's eyes for a moment before Jim loosened his grip and patted his arm.

"And here I thought Spock was your _t'hy'la_ ," Tony said.

Jim and Leonard both tensed. Jim's friendship with Spock had been hard won, and he didn't appreciate it being mocked. "Spock's married," Leonard said, hoping to divert the conversation.

"Oh, he's married? So he got lucky with T'Pring in your universe? Good for him, she's pretty enough," Tony said. "But she lives back on Vulcan, she probably doesn't even notice you three exchanging long, loving glances."

"You know what, Stark?" Jim said, and Leonard held his breath.

Tony examined his cuticles and said, "No, what, tell me, please, I want to be enlightened by a kid who's not even born yet."

"In my universe, you were shot in the head at the age of seventeen for mouthing off to a man who was bigger than you. You've had twenty more years than him and you're still incapable of seeing anything but the next joke."

Tony tapped his chin. "Amazing, that's incredible, you know, that certainly taught me a life lesson. I look five years younger than I actually am — the Pond's cream is really working." Jim spluttered, but Tony didn't stop long enough for him to throw a word in edgewise. "Hey, doc, the kids'll be back soon, you probably want to take the uniform off so they don't mock you. People can be so _vicious_."

Jim leaned into Leonard's side, as though to assure himself of Leonard's support. "Captain America trusts you with his life. Can't you take time to consider the ramifications of what you say? Or is that too boring for you?"

Tony's face went blank. "When I was seventeen years old, my parents died and I wasn't up to being CEO of my father's lovechild. If there had been anyone in my universe willing to shoot me in the face, I would have found him, said the nastiest shit I could come up with, and grinned while he pulled the trigger. I know what lies in the balance."

Jim opened his mouth, clearly to rebut, and Leonard couldn't take it. "I'm supposed to change clothes, but my luggage is on a shuttle to Rigel Two. Have anything I could borrow?"

Immediately, Tony was back. He grinned and nodded, working his jaw. "I really can't decide — there are so many possibilities — I'll have to go with the truth: I don't think you'd fit in my pants."

Leonard held his breath for Jim's reaction — Jim didn't normally let an argument drop — and was pleasantly surprised when Jim laughed and shook his head. "Too obvious, too self-detrimental."

"Maybe, but let's ask the neutral party. What do you think, Bones, too obvious and self-detrimental?"

"I'd have to hear Jim's line, for comparison's sake," Leonard said, arching an eyebrow at Jim.

Jim raised his eyebrows and nodded his head. "Give me the cue."

Leonard grinned at Jim, then Tony. "I need different clothes, you have any I could borrow?"

Jim leaned in, putting his hand on the small of Leonard's back, and said with half-lidded eyes, "The universe would be better place if you wore only a smile."

"That's the best you could come up with?" Tony said. "You had a whole extra minute and that's it?"

"It's a compliment and a request for a sexually stimulating situation!" Jim said, grip tightening on Leonard's shirt.

"It would work better on a beautiful person," Leonard said.

"Bones," Jim said, sounding scandalized.

"Ohhhhhh, that's ridiculous," Tony said, shaking his head and exchanging looks with Jim for a moment. He turned his gaze to Leonard, with the same heated expression he'd worn in his lab, and said, "Oh, look, something we agree on."

Leonard tore his eyes away from Tony's and made the mistake of looking at Jim, who hadn't yet ditched the bedroom eyes. "Cut it out," he said, and tried to look at the ceiling. It was disconcerting he didn't feel any more queasy when he found himself looking at the open sky.

"So whose line was better?" Jim asked, low, close, in his ear.

"Yeah," Tony said, breathily. "Don't forget I insinuated you have a big dick." 

"I said you have a beautif — "

"Be quiet!" Leonard said, stepping out of Jim's grip and away from Tony's goddamn huge eyes. "Lobbying's against the rules."

"Oh, there are rules, kinky," Tony said, with a little hitch in his breath Leonard hoped was put on.

"There are always rules, Tony," came Captain America's authoritative voice, and Tony's jump definitely was not for show. Leonard turned and held back from whistling. He had assumed the man's form was in part shaped by his uniform, but good goddamn if he wasn't bulging just as much in a button-down and a pair of slacks.

"Steve," Tony said. "Come on over, you and Leonard are judging our lines."

"I thought I was disqualified," Steve said, with twinkling eyes and an easy smile. "Too close to the issue."

Jim licked his lips. "We've figured it out. Bones is my best friend, you're Tony's best friend — "

Tony squawked. "I didn't say that."

"I'm not?" Steve said, and the pout Tony had been mocking earlier made its appearance and somehow wasn't laughable on this blond Adonis. Instead, his furrowed brow and pursed lips made Leonard want to — what the hell was he thinking, this was Tony's problem.

"Don't say that, it's not, I just, I swore to Rhodey when I was fifteen that he'd always be my best friend. It's an oath and he's more like my brother than my friend but I said it because I never considered the possibility of a better friend than _Rhodey_ so — "

Steve smiled, to Leonard's great relief. "It's OK, Tony."

"Right," Jim said after a long pause. "What do you say, Bones?"

Leonard shrugged. "Sorry, Jim, Tony's was better. More authentic."

"Authentic. He said authentic, Captain Crunch, not 'obvious' or 'self-detrimental.'" Tony did a little shimmy toward Leonard. "Thanks, darling, I told you you're my — " he paused, gaze shifting to Steve, "favorite non-Avenger type."

"I'm hurt, Bones," Jim said, hand to his chest.

"Well, the count's not final," Tony said. "Steve has to vote."

Steve crossed his arms, somehow making his muscles bulge even more. "I haven't heard any lines."

"Are your ears stuffed with cotton?" Leonard asked, because that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.

Steve tilted his head. "Not since I got back home, anyway."

"That's at least believable," Leonard said.

"So, come on. Throw me a line." Steve rolled his neck and stretched his shoulders.

Leonard and Jim took a moment to recover from the sight, but even after they had, Tony was still staring, eyes gone soft and mouth slightly agape. Steve met his eyes and smiled, and then Tony was back with a lascivious grin. "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? If so, I should check your ass for bruises. Was your father a thief? Because I hear that sort of thing runs in the family and I should probably strip search you out of concern for my safety. Nice shoes, but I'll buy you better ones in the morning. Are these the sort of lines we're talking about? I could keep going, but I'll stop out of a sense of fair play."

Steve bobbed his head a few times, face slightly red, and then he turned to Jim. "Your turn."

"This isn't really my style," Jim said, stepping toward Steve with a self-conscious smile. "The attraction between us is…" he paused, looking to the side for a moment, and then met Steve's eyes. "Relentless. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, your mouth, your eyes. It's been the same for you, I can tell. I can't reduce it to a game."

Steve raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat. Tony rolled his eyes. "Boring. Come on, Steve, make me a winner."

"No lobbying," Steve said, "and I think Jim's line was better." Tony's mouth began to work, but before he could say anything, Steve gave a half wave. "I'm going to finish dinner. Ready in ten." He trotted down the stairs with his hands in his pockets.

"Good game," Jim said, offering his hand to Tony.

Tony ignored Jim's hand. "It's not a good game until I win, and right now we're tied."

"Until you win?" Jim asked. "Getting ahead of yourself, don't you think?"

Tony shrugged, walked to the wall and pulled up a holographic schematic of an aircraft. "No one's beaten me yet. Go on, Bones, go get changed before dinner."

"Thought you didn't have any pants in my size?" Leonard said, and Jim snorted as he went down the stairs. 

"I ordered you some clothes — ordered you both some, in fact, as I am a gracious host even to assholes who break my shit after I tell them not to — and they're in your rooms, go to it, I have things to do and only — JARVIS, how many minutes until dinner, actually, don't answer that, your answer will be as depressing as how much this fucker weighs."


	3. Tony

[ ](http://s1102.photobucket.com/albums/g453/ellipsisthegreat/Guide/?action=view&current=TonyPBMarker.png)

" _Please rephrase query._ " God _damn_ Kirk.

"I said, don't answer."

The next time Tony checked, exceedingly-hot-Bones and James T-is-for-Turdface Kirk were gone, down the stairs, and Steve was back, looking annoyed.

"Hey, Steverino, wow, that's horrible, remind me never to say it again, just looking at new and improved Quinjet systems. A little faster, a few more defensive systems, and the new color scheme is bitching." Tony toggled the display so the hot rod red and cool silver showed brightly over the engine schematics and turrets (best defense is a good offense, after all), and stood back so Steve could admire.

Steve didn't even step closer. "Dinner's ready, as of fifteen minutes ago."

Tony should probably have felt remorseful, but that would be pointless since everyone in the world already knew Tony Stark was always late. Only Steve took umbrage because Honor and Discipline and shit. "Right, JARVIS wasn't keeping track of the time."

"There's a clock right there." Steve, wow, Steve was actually angry, that hadn't happened for a while. "And you're not even dressed."

Tony was taken aback. "I am, too," he began, then looked down to confirm, just in case (there had been the episode with Rhodey and the investors in Taiwan, and you never make that mistake twice.) Yes, dick, balls, and nipples were covered. He even had shoes on. "I am, too!"

Steve sighed. "We're waiting for you."

"What?" Tony said. "Who is? And why?"

"Just come on." Steve went down the stairs. Tony saved and closed his work, not even twiddling with landing gear that so obviously needed reinforced with adamantium, and followed.

The "dining room table" had been set very nicely, a cloth over all three card tables, napkins, forks, the whole shebang, and the crowd around it looked more menacing than usual. Bruce was grinning with his teeth showing, which meant he was one good think away from becoming the Jolly Green Giant, Thor had red sauce in his beard and was glaring at Tony, and Clint was playing with an arrow — a sharp one, not an exploding one, that was good news, only one death intended. Natasha was glowering, which was presumably why Kirk had a black eye. Tony grinned at her, and she flared her nostrils. That was a very bad sign. Tony tried to move the smile to Bones, who had changed into a green v neck which really brought out his eyes, but Bones was staring at Kirk's bruised face and twitching.

Steve sat at the head of the table, like the dad, and Tony sat down in the one remaining chair, at the other end. Like the mom, his mind provided, but he was not the mom, no stretch marks on his ass, thank you very much. Especially not the mom to this group of overpowered nutsos.

"Alright, now Tony's here, we can say grace." Out of respect for Steve and his fine ass, Tony did not shout the word grace and grab the bowl of garlic bread in front of him. Instead, he bowed his head, chewed on his lip, and thought about the landing gear. Someone would jostle him when prayer-time was over and he'd be merrily on his way to Steve's cooking.

Tony had barely begun to work out the steel-to-adamantium ratio for the struts when Clint poked him with the arrow. "Owww," he said, out of habit more than anything else, and reached for the bread only to have his hand knocked away.

"You're praying, jerkwad," Clint said, poking him again.

"What?" Tony said, and looked around. Everyone was glaring at him. "Come on, everyone here is agnostic, at best. Why does anyone have to pray? And especially, why me, specifically. I don’t even believe in Thor.”

"It's tradition," Bruce said, and Steve nodded.

"Even in Asgard, we give thanks for our bountiful feasts," Thor added. "Four harvests ago, Lady Sif made a speech so fair, tears fell from even my hard-hearted brother's eyes."

"And you were late," Natasha said, smiling.

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Fine." He stood and raised his hands. If he was doing this, he was doing it right. "Our Father in the Helicarrier, Fury be thy name. Thy eyepatch come, thy beret be done with, because it is so early nineties. Give us this day our daily villain, and forgive me my tech as it shows up your shitty ass developments. Lead us not into Hydra and deliver us from MODOK. For yours is our armor, shield, bow, knives, hammer, and big green schlong forever and ever, amen." He paused. Steve had covered his face with his hands, and Clint and Bruce were snorting laughter. "Oh, and thank you, Mr. Fantastic, for sending us our guests."

Thor nodded thoughtfully. "That is a good speech, Stark, but it does not mention our food."

"You're right," Tony said. "Thank you, Steve, for fixing this and I'm sorry I'm late."

"Not a problem," Steve said, choking, and Tony wondered for a moment if he'd gone too far and made Steve cry. And then he realized Steve was laughing, throwing his head back and shaking with it. Tony smiled and quirked his eyebrows as he sat down.

Tony's first priority was Steve's garlic bread, followed by Steve's lasagna. Once he filled his plate, he felt fairly safe. Thor had learned to respect other people's plates after Natasha stabbed him with her fork four times in one meal, and Clint only stole small bites he didn't think would be missed. Tony still kept an eye on them as he addressed Kirk. "So, what happened to your face? I already know, but go ahead and tell me."

Kirk flushed. "I tried to hold the lady's chair for her."

"And I held his chair for him. He happened to slam his face into one of the legs," Natasha said, smirking.

"Very clumsy of me," Kirk said, winking at Natasha.

Everyone but Natasha and Kirk went completely still. Tony was honest-to-God holding his breath, waiting for the beat down. Natasha swallowed her bite, and looked Kirk in the eye. "Apparently, you didn't understand the message embedded in the chair." Steve looked uncomfortable, but didn't interfere, for which Tony was grateful. Natasha would probably stop threatening people if Steve asked.

Kirk looked at Natasha with wide eyes. "What can I say? Your beauty overwhelms my good sense."

"Doesn't take much," Bones said, and Tony bit his hand to hold in a squeal.

"This is as good as _City on the Edge of Forever_ ," Clint whispered, and Tony batted at him to keep him from interrupting the show. Also, nothing was as good as _City on the Edge of Forever_ except maybe _The Empath_ , so Clint had better shut his mouth.

Natasha picked up a piece of toast. "Your good sense," she said, ripping the bread apart, "should stick around." She pinched off a few more pieces of the bread, letting them fall into an emptied lasagna pan, marinara sauce splattering from beneath them.

Kirk looked at the pan, eyebrows raised. "I see."

Steve coughed. "Thor, would you pass the salt?"

"Salt?" Tony said. "There's absolutely no need for salt, this is perfect, why are you asking for salt?"

"The sauce does lack salt." Thor ran his finger along the edge of his plate, then licked the sauce from it. "Also, the green radish made of horses."

"Blasphemy," Clint said, incredulous.

"No, blasphemy was Tony's 'Our Father,'" Bruce said. "Wasabi in Steve's lasagna is morally repugnant, no matter your religion."

"Amen," Clint and Tony agreed.

"It would make Monday night dinner a warrior's battle!" Thor said. "Already we are beset with the weaknesses of cutlery and tossed lettuce. We must prove our strength. Banner, brother-in-arms, you must agree."

Bruce shook his head. "Sorry, Thor, but even the other guy likes Steve's lasagna as is."

"We'll prove our strength when we spar later," Steve said, and Thor nodded.

Tony wondered, as always, how Steve was able to manage them all so well. He was the only reason the team had survived this year. He was even able to manage Tony, who wasn't too proud to admit it. Before Steve, only Pepper had been able to do that, and she did it with bribes, concessions, and workarounds. Steve was the first person in Tony's life to stand up and refuse the bullshit.

Not that Tony didn't still try, of course, which was why he was going to bring this up at the table. Steve wouldn't want to fight in front of the kids. "Hey, Steve, I'm gonna skip on the sparring tonight. I have things to do, people to see, that sort of thing."

"You mean, things to see and people to do," Clint said, and Tony elbowed him.

"Like what? Or who?" Steve said, taking a bite of his salad.

"A board meeting," Tony tried. Board meeting, as an excuse, usually worked. None of the Avengers had any idea what his job at Stark Enterprises entailed or at what hours Tony was needed. The board had the same amount of knowledge about his duties with the Avengers. Which meant, with JARVIS out of commission and Pepper in LA, Tony could probably make it a good week before anyone noticed he wasn't doing either of them.

And what better excuse could be had for a week of hooky than Leonard McCoy, live, in the flesh, and sexier than ever? Tony would've done him — had often fantasized about doing him — in DeForest Kelley's body, but the scientific snark and big heart wrapped up in young, muscled manflesh pressed all of Tony's myriad buttons except for the ones that required breasts, vulvae, or off-limit star-spangled types.

"At seven o'clock at night?" Steve asked. "You're always complaining about how early they make you get up."

"What, no," Tony said, waving his hand.

"Who schedules these things, a fucking rooster?" Clint said in a falsetto, and it took Tony a moment to realize Clint was mocking him.

"Hey, hey, hey, I do not sound like that," Tony said. "And I'm the boss, I choose the times."

"That was last week. You weren't choosing the times, then," Natasha said. Always so goddamn helpful, Natasha. Tony curled his lips at her and she shrugged.

"Indeed, it was the day Midgard most recently celebrated my accomplishments," Thor said. "Your rudeness on that morn soured the remainder of the day."

"For the last fucking time, Thor, Thursday has nothing to do with you or your giant hammer."

"Rude," Tony said, loudly, pointing his fork at Clint. "Rude and against the no insults during dinner rule."

"That wasn't an insult!" Clint said, shoving Tony's shoulder in the way Clint thought was friendly and everyone else thought was painful. "It was a statement of fact and possibly a compliment, depending on what hammer I'm talking about."

Thor grinned. "For either, it is truth. You have seen my hammers and may attest to their glory."

"I'll attest," Tony said. Clint, Bruce, and Natasha nodded.

"I think we've forgotten about our guests," Steve said, glaring at Tony. As though this was Tony's fault. Tony pointed at Clint only to find him sneaking Tony's garlic bread, but Tony let it slide. It was his third piece, anyway.

Thor stood, hands on his belt buckle. "Indeed, I had forgotten! Friends, fellow travelers from the stars, I will show you — "

"No!" Steve and Tony said together, pushing their chairs back and standing up.

Thor hesitated, looking from one of them to the other, then to Bones and Kirk. "Do you not wish to see?"

"Thank you, but perhaps another time," Kirk said, and then patted his mouth with his napkin like the delicate little pretty boy he was.

"Wouldn't be the only time someone showed me their junk at the dinner table," Bones said, deadpan, "but I'd prefer if you'd wait until office hours." Wow, Tony liked Bones, Bones was a good guy, even better in person, and probably best naked.

"All this aside, I'll catch you in the morning, Cap, I have business to do." Tony gathered his place setting and was four steps from the table before Steve was at his side, hand on his elbow. Tony couldn't decide if it was annoying or a turn-on. Either way, he needed it to stop, and so he pulled away and continued to the kitchen.

"Tony," Steve said. He had a little furrow between his eyebrows, the one that meant Steve had serious business and he thought Tony was going to be a dick about it, and let's be honest, Tony was probably going to fulfill expectations. Tony had made the most long-suffering person in the world give up on him, that's how much of a dick Tony was even when he was trying to be nice.

"What's shakin', bacon?" Tony asked. Oh, god, he was a dick and hadn't "Flippancy doesn't help" been the big lesson from the Potts-Stark enterprise? The moral of the story, the one he would've needlepointed and framed above his bed if it wasn't the biggest bonerkiller he'd ever considered.

"Tony," Steve said, again. Real trouble, the name repeating thing. Tony dumped his plate, glass, and silverware into the sink and rinsed them off, even though there was staff for dishwashing. Nice staff with good health insurance who Tony paid from his own pocket because Tony didn't want to rinse dishes or set tables or any of the weird crap Steve insisted on. He wondered for a moment about finding someone to sit through prayers for him, but dismissed it as Steve cleared his throat.

He stared at Steve, whose little furrow had overwhelmed both eyebrows. His mouth was drawn and he was having difficulty meeting Tony's eyes, until he finally blurted out, "I'm sorry, but Pepper sent me your schedule."

"Wait, what? Who did what?" Tony asked, his own eyebrows leaping around in confusion. Steve hadn't mentioned Pepper in six months, since the last time Tony had mentioned Pepper.

Which had gone like this: "Haven't seen your girl around lately," Steve said, and Tony said, "Pep and I are done," and Steve had this look of simultaneous sadness and hope as he changed the subject to the versatility of Iron Man's unibeam, good man, Steve, knowing how to cheer a guy up. 

But the hope, the hope thing. The hope thing was about Pepper, Tony had thought then, and now Tony knew, because Steve had been talking to Pepper, talking enough for Pepper to trust Steve with Tony's schedule and what the hell, the person Tony wanted was stealing the person Tony ex-wanted. Wasn't there a code about this, the bro-code Clint was always talking about, the one everyone said was bullshit but was apparently true because Steve and Pepper was a betrayal on both sides.

"I'm sorry, Tony," Steve was saying, and if it had been anyone besides Steve, Tony would have ignored him in lieu of listening to the roaring in his own mind. "Pepper asked me to keep an eye out in case you stopped…" he paused to bite his lip, "Showing up."

Tony pursed his mouth. "So you and Pep were just chatting and the subject of my unreliability cropped up? I know I'm fickle, but shouldn't you have better things to talk about?"

Steve's mouth ticked, and he said, "No, she — "

"She's great at phone sex, you should try it next time you're bored of discussing the Declaration of Independence." Steve flushed, and Tony felt a rise of grim pleasure. "My favorite was when she — "

"Stop!" Steve said, clenching his fists, and Tony wondered if he could goad Steve into pummeling him. He did have twenty-two years on the punk who'd committed suicide by mouth, after all.

Tony grinned, the one he normally reserved for people who asked him about his father, all teeth and no joy. "Oh, come on, Steve, lighten up, masturbation doesn't cause blindness or hairy palms, especially not if you follow Pepper's suggestions. You'll walk funny for a day or so, but it'll be worth it."

"Tony," Steve said, "Pepper talked to me once, to ask me about you."

"I'm sure she — " Tony began before he realized what Steve had said. "Wait, what?"

"She knew you kept an eye out for me. You know, when I got down." Steve said it in a low voice, crossing his arms and glancing at the door. As though it were a secret than he'd mourned for months after defrost. He'd raged against punching bags or supervillains, but didn't have a word for anyone outside the field. Tony had JARVIS monitor him, and whenever Steve ventured out of his room, Tony was there with something to distract him — his original shield, a motorcycle, team dinner night — whatever would grab Steve's interest and take the grief from his eyes.

"So?" Tony asked, shrugging. "Friends do that."

"She asked if I would return the favor." Steve looked at him, and Tony felt small.

"Well, this is awkward," Tony said. "I shouldn't have jumped on you, I just thought you and Pepper were, you know…" He shrugged.

"No," Steve said.

"You two deserve each other," Tony said, cautiously, knowing he sounded completely contradictory and hoped being an eccentric genius would give him a pass. "You should try it."

"No," Steve said, more adamantly, and relief sang through Tony, relief and ridiculous hope because of Steve's hope, Steve's hope was not because of Pepper and therefore must be because of Tony. Coulson could sprinkle a little salt on his no-fraternization-especially-not-with-Captain-America rule and eat it.

And then, his heart dropped back into his stomach at the realization: Pepper and Steve thought he was depressed. He was, but par for the course, Tony was depressed, Tony was ecstatic, or, most of the time, both. He winced and said, "I'm OK, Steve."

"Why are you trying to skip sparring?" Steve asked, suddenly standing straighter and sounding business-like. Damn. Tony had admitted his good health and now he was in for an ass-reaming about teamwork and dependability.

"I wanted to work in the lab," Tony said. Half-truth — he always wanted to work in the lab — but it wouldn't do to say, "I wanted to seduce Leonard McCoy," especially since Tony also wanted to seduce Steve and admitting interest in another person wouldn't really be a good first step.

"It can wait. See you in the gym at nine." And Steve was out of the kitchen without any other reprimands, leaving Tony unsettled without a lecture to put him back on the straight and narrow. Nothing stopped Steve from a good lecture, nothing, not even lasagna, yet he was going back to the table, back to James Kirk, the rat bastard. Tony was confident Kirk also wanted Steve and Bones, and Kirk was asininely persistent. 

Tony told himself persistence didn't matter. Tony had the home turf advantage, in addition to money, brains, and a small measure of humility. Tony would win the pissing contest, no questions asked, and he'd have Bones in bed tonight. Steve, soon after, maybe for most nights after that and hey, when did the rest of his life line of thinking start? Was it Pepper? Had she screwed him up somehow, adding “long-term” into his fantasies?

"Hey, JARVIS, set an alarm for eight forty-five pm and have it go off in whatever room I'm in."

" _Timer set for eight forty-five pm in your location,_ " JARVIS said, and Tony nodded and sat at the kitchen bar and pulled up the Quinjet again. The struts were off, the balance of the whole damn thing was off, and it was because of the Hulk containment unit. Tony nixed it, knowing Fury would have his head when the jet was built, but Tony was paying for it and, therefore, could do whatever he wanted and that included allowing Hulk to rampage to his heart's content. Hulk was a good guy. You didn't have to look hard to see that. He didn't have much understanding of damage control, but neither did Tony or Thor or anyone except Coulson, really. And Hulk loved kittens. Maybe instead of a Hulk jar, he could have a basket of kittens to calm him down. "JARVIS, add kittens," he said, and grinned as tiny felines appeared, pouncing around the blueprints.

A note came up as he made the engines a little smaller and a little more efficient, that a ransom demand had come to the parents of Bones's kidnapping victim. The demands weren't given in the NYPD's system, which was surprising, and Tony sent a voicemail to the station, telling them he would anonymously donate whatever funds were needed to bring the kid home and the Avengers would be available to assist however necessary. He was willing to bet the parents would take him up on the money, and the police would spit on the offer of help and try to firewall him out of their network again. He forwarded the information (other than the monetary offer, don't let the right hand know what you're doing with your left and all that) to the Avengers. Then, he was back in the Quinjet, romping with the kittens.

He had a faint headache when the alarm rang, and he saved and closed with something akin to relief. The work on the Quinjet was to give himself time to percolate on the Star Trek problem and how the hell were they real and how he was sending them home, and it had simmered and brewed and god, he needed coffee. Luckily, someone (probably Steve) had left a cup next to him on the counter. It was cold, but he grabbed it and gulped it on his way to Steve's apartment.

Steve's gymnasium was big enough for a set of weights, a punching bag, and a boxing ring — it wasn't really big enough for the Avengers to brawl in as a team — and so Tony had set up a sparring program. Pretty simple, really, based on dice, where one to three Avengers were randomly chosen to spar against one to three other Avengers. He was the first person there (for once), and he took the time to add James Kirk and Leonard McCoy to the roster and fix a round or two.

He was trying to decide if having Natasha fight Steve twice in a row would be too obvious a ploy for eye candy when someone tapped his shoulder. Someone turned out to be Steve, and Tony quickly closed the program. "Hey, Cap, just making a few adjustments," Tony said.

"It's about time," Steve said.

"Oh, so it is," Tony said, realizing the team plus Bones and Kirk had assembled, and he turned to face them. "Are we ready?"

Steve leaned in, breath warm on Tony's ear — wow, that was good, great, really, Tony could get used to it— and said, "Fix it so you and Bruce don't fight _them_."

"What?" Tony said, completely thrown off from his vision of Steve on top of him, whispering the wonderfully horrible things he wanted Tony to do, and then realized Steve was explaining a plan, not flirting with him. Which was ridiculous, Steve could've sent him a text message or an email or some sort of communication that didn't leave Tony weak in the knees.

Steve persisted in the whispering. "I don't want them evenly matched. Don't let them fight you or Bruce."

"OK," Tony said. "I'm not sure whether I should be insulted because you think I'm a wimp or chuffed you think I'm as good as Captain Kirk. I mean, I can shoulder roll with the best of them, but he's a bit younger than I am." Tony paused, considering. "I think I'm leaning toward insulted."

"Just do it," Steve said, in his stupid command voice, which somehow turned Tony on more. He didn't even talk back as he turned to make changes in the program. Something was wrong, here, so very wrong about Tony Stark, rebellion personified, getting off on Captain America bossing him around. He dismissed the notion as he finished programming.

He turned and clasped his hands together, grinning at everyone. "Alright, it's time for Mortal Kombat: Avengers Edition. JARVIS, give us our first match!"

He was lying, a little. JARVIS merely shared a voice with the program tonight instead of actually being in charge of it (which was why Tony could fix the matches tonight; JARVIS didn't allow for any shenanigans of that type. Why Tony had taught the A.I. to be honest was beyond even him.) But it was still impressive when the lights went down and JARVIS's voice began.

" _Clint Barton!_ " A purple anime-style hawk popped onto the wall display, clutching a bow in its talons.

" _Versus…Bruce Banner!_ " and facing down the hawk was eight bit Doctor Mario, flashing green.

"Great," Bruce said, and stripped off his shirt before stepping into the ring. "Don't shit on me, Bird Boy." Tony took a moment to admire. The man spent a lot of time in the gym to work off excess adrenaline, and his chest was chiseled as a result.

But not as chiseled as Barton's arms. Clint slipped into the ring without preamble, standing with his arms crossed in the classic bicep enhancer pose. "Try and stop me, Doc."

" _FIGHT!_ "

Bruce stood straight in his corner, watching Clint approach. Clint weaved a little before lowering his head and charging at Bruce, trying to take him down quickly, but Bruce side-stepped and slapped Clint's ass as he went by. "One!" Tony shouted, and Bruce grinned as he repositioned himself. Bruce had discovered that while he believed his teammates didn't want to hurt him while sparring, he couldn't convince the Hulk of it if he made any aggressive moves. Instead, he played grab ass while the other person tried to pin him. So far, his record was fifteen hits in a match, and no one had gotten out of the ring with less than three.

Tony was distracted from the match by Steve talking to Kirk and Bones, friendly banter, small talk, the sort Steve didn't do with anyone. Especially not during sparring matches, where Steve demanded everyone keep an eye on their teammates, looking for weak points. Usually, he was hardest on Bruce and Tony because he was genuinely terrified of them being caught without the ability to Hulk out or suit up. It was ridiculous, really. Tony'd built these wristbands so he could always suit up, and nothing but Bruce's zen could hold the other guy.

Here Steve was, though, turned away from the ring, chatting, and Jim Kirk kept putting his hand on Steve's shoulder. Bones looked as annoyed and disgusted with Kirk's behavior as Tony felt, and it was more than a relief when Bruce choked out, "OK, you got me."

Clint did have him, in a positively gentle headlock, and he released him quickly. "Good round, doc. Next time, try seeing green."

The hawk on the display released three pink arrows and hit Dr. Mario in the heart, dropping him and turning his eyes into hearts. It was cute, Tony thought, and he grinned even though only Steve laughed at it.

Next came Thor and Kirk, represented by a hammer and Shatner screaming Khan, respectively. Kirk settled into a boxing stance as the computer counted down. Thor stood with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised as Kirk danced in his corner. "I do not think you understand, James Kirk. We are to attack each other without shedding one another's blood until one of us yields."

"Ah, I didn't know," Kirk said, and feinted left, tapping Thor's shoulder. Thor grabbed his hand, flipped him belly down onto the mat, and rested one foot in between his shoulder blades.

"Yield," Thor said, and Kirk wiggled around a little before holding up a hand. "I give."

Thor helped him up and said, "Well fought, Kirk." Kirk nodded and rubbed his back as he walked back to Steve.

"Well, that was over disappointingly fast," Tony said. "But I'm sure it's a common complaint for you."

Kirk smiled and stretched above his head. "And I'm ready to go again. What do you need, the full week between matches?"

"Oh, but I'll last all night long, baby. Come and try me," Tony said.

“Right,” Kirk said, eyeing Tony up and down. “You don’t have what it takes, old man.”

Tony stepped toward him. “Really. You want to throw down? Let’s go.”

Kirk lifted his chin. “Sure, let’s go.” 

“Tony’s up,” Steve said, and pointed to the display: Iron Man, strutting, with a black widow lurking behind him.

“Maybe next time, then, Kirk,” Tony said, and shrugged into the ring.

Tony held his own. Natasha was amazing, as always, and he almost thanked her for using his neck as a ThighMaster. He thought better of it when he realized she was one twist away from breaking his spine. And he immediately afterward managed to pin Bruce with a tolerable five spank score.

Most of the other matches were beautiful in their deadliness, in the typical Avengers way. Natasha and Steve did go against each other, and Steve apparently didn't have any of the qualms Tony did about accidentally touching her breasts. They wrestled like puppies. Very sexy puppies. At one point Natasha grabbed Steve's ass for no tactical gain, and Steve laughed and rolled her on top of him, where she sat on his upper thighs and put her hands on his shoulders. Maybe that position would have pinned someone who was not a super soldier, but Steve just flipped her over so she was between his legs.

"Are you even _trying_?" Clint asked, face slightly red. Tony wasn't sure which of the two he was asking, but Tony didn't really have higher brain function.

"JARVIS, save this for later, OK?" he said, and Steve shot him a look. Tony just shrugged. Couldn't blame a man for perving.

Steve twisted around to sit on Natasha's abdomen and demanded she yield, and Natasha reached up and grabbed a fistful of his hair. "You yield or you're going bald."

"No!" Steve said, and yelped as she tightened her hand in his hair.

"Yes, Steve," Natasha said.

"Fine, I give," Steve said, and Natasha let go and rubbed his head. He hopped up, flushed and scowling, but still offered her a hand. "That wasn't fair."

"Fair isn't the point," she said. "The point is, I win."

The only other interesting fights featured one Leonard McCoy, who went back and forth between standing with his arms crossed, cussing out the computer for calling his name, and punching people in the face.

Clint hadn't been bothered. He was used to sparring hard — he and Natasha showed up for breakfast with big grins and bloody knuckles most mornings — and he'd taken Bones's fist to his nose without issue. Clint pulled his legs from beneath him and had him cursing on the ground in no time.

In the ring with Steve, though, Bones had started with, "If I just had my hypospray, you'd be out before you knew it."

"Maybe," Steve said as he dropped back to size Bones up, fists up but left elbow pointed to the side (and he made fun of Tony for trying to use repulsors in hand-to-hand.)

"No 'maybe' about it," Bones said. "All this violence is unnecessary."

"Oh, really, Mr. Spock," Kirk said, grinning, and Bones glared at him.

"I didn't come here to be mocked," Bones said. He sighed, and turned to Steve. "Alright, put up your dukes."

Steve's fists were already up, but he nodded. "Come on, Leonard, give it to me."

Bones waited a moment, sizing Steve up, and then stepped forward and connected a right hook to the mouth. Steve jerked back, wiping his mouth (bloody, wow,) and Bones shook his hand out. "Goddamn, you have a hard head."

Steve looked angry, like he was going to punch back, and Tony couldn't help begging, "Not in the face!" He had plans for Bones's lips, after all, and no one ever really had fun in the sack when they were concussed.

Instead of wiping the floor using Bones as a mop, Steve visibly calmed and said, "Good. You got me. Do it again."

"No, thank you," Bones said, arms crossed again. "You need medical attention."

"You're a doctor, right? Come on, take a look." Steve grinned, lips and teeth bright red.

Bones didn't bite, instead he tapped his toes. "You come here and show me."

Steve lunged forward to grab Bones around the waist, but Bones twisted until Steve only had his hands on one of Bones's legs, and they fell together into a mass of extremely attractive man. Steve was on top, white shirt riding up his back, trying to grab Bones's other leg, which was wrapped around the back of Steve's thighs.

"What're you gonna do, squash me?" Bones asked, mouth curling into a sneer, and he twisted around Steve's side and kneed him in the stomach with his trapped leg. Steve rolled onto his back, and Leonard shoved free.

"You know, maybe this isn't a good idea," Kirk said.

Everyone else was watching the fight too intently, so Tony had to ask. "Why's that?"

Kirk winced as Steve grabbed Bones's arm and yanked him down to the mat. "He's used to practicing hand-to-hand with me and a regenerator."

"Oh," Tony said, grinning. "Oh, boy. You slash yourselves."

"What's that?" Kirk asked, tilting his head at Tony. Tony shook his head, too busy watching to explain the concept of slash.

Steve crushed Bones flat against the mat. Bones snarled and elbowed Steve in the gut with his free arm, and did it again, harder, when Steve didn't respond.

"Your buddy getting whupped," Clint answered, as Steve laid himself over Bones's back, one leg slung over Bones's, and easily pulled both of Bones's hands down to his sides.

Bones thrashed, and Steve said, quietly, "Yield."

Bones did something that made Steve squeak and readjust his grip on Bones's arms, and Bones laughed and said, "Just get off me."

"Alright." Steve stood and offered Bones a hand.

Bones took it and stood. "I told you this was unnecessary."

"But you got a good hit in," Steve said, smiling again, no blood this time.

Bones stepped in and put his thumb on Steve's lip, and Tony's breath caught in his chest. "Well, I'll be darned; there's barely a cut. Can't say I'm not grateful. I'd hate to ruin such a pretty face." He patted Steve's cheek and slid out of the ring to grab a towel.

Steve followed as the computer announced the end of the game. Thor won (as always, only person who could've beaten him in the ring was the Hulk, and they tried to avoid having Hulk inside the tower.)

"Good sparring, everyone," Steve said, and all of the Avengers stared at him. Normally, now was the time Steve told them everything they did wrong. And right. But mostly wrong. Bruce booked it out of the gym, probably to avoid the weekly argument about how playing ass grab wouldn't ever help him in a real fight.

"Is that it?" Clint asked, looking nervously at Steve.

“If so, I must beg my leave. I must go home this evening to answer my father’s call,” Thor said. “No magic or technology has given me reception from Asgard.”

Steve nodded. “Safe traveling, my friend.” 

"We’ll go up with you. C'mon, Clint, let's watch Burn Notice." Natasha said, picking up her bag and walking out of the gym with Thor. 

" _What_?" Clint said, shrilly, grabbing his own bag and chasing after them.

"It's hilarious," Natasha said. "He's so _loud_."

"Spy humor," Tony said, mainly to fill in the silence, and then (finally, yes, hallelujah), turned to Leonard McCoy. "Wanna teach me how to make mint juleps?"

"If your offer means I get to drink one, why, yes, I do," Bones answered, with a grin that showed the lines on his face weren't all from anxiety.

"Well, then, Cap, Captain," Tony said, nodding to Steve and Kirk, both of whom looked discomfited (as well they should,) and led Bones out of the gym and into the elevator. Tony bounced on his toes, feeling like a kid in a candy store because he was on his way to drink a mint julep with Bones McCoy.

"You know, when I was a kid, I wanted to be a space doctor like you," Tony said. It wasn't often he met someone he could actually fanboy over. The closest before had been Captain America, and it wasn't his fault Steve was too uptight about losing everything he'd ever loved to appreciate the delicious portmanteau that was Capsicle.

"When I was a kid, I wanted to be a cowboy," Bones said. "Looks like we both aimed and missed."

"Oh, no," Tony said, following Bones out of elevator, "See, when I was a teenager, I wised up, and decided I only wanted to do a space doctor."

"I see," Bones said, leading the way quite skillfully up the stairs and to the liquor. "And you think tonight's the night."

"I don't see why not," Tony said, speeding up to walk next to Bones, but putting his hands in his pockets, feigning nonchalance.

"I was pulled through a wormhole and then I was drugged," Bones said, eyes fixed ahead, but a small smile on his face.

"I guess it has been a big, interdimensional day and you could just want a nap," Tony said, slowing to admire Bones's ass with a surreptitious glance, "but I always thought sailors took their comfort wherever they could find it."

Bones raised an eyebrow as he pulled out two tumblers and the bourbon from the wet bar like a pro. "So you're calling yourself any port in a storm."

"Not any port, no. This particular storm led you to the best, shiniest, most fun port you'll ever find. I can give you references, if you'd like," Tony said, leaning across the bar toward Bones and pointing to the mint leaves and muddler, and met Bones's gaze with half lidded eyes and a knowing smile. This was Tony's ace in the hole (one of many, actually): the ultimate seduction pose. He had his ass tilted out and up, his finger traveling back toward his mouth, and his bedroom eyes front and center. If he had breasts, his cleavage would be perfectly displayed in this position. He'd learned it from, well, strippers, but it always worked.

It was working now, as Bones looked at Tony, little up-down glances from the mint leaves and sugar he was muddling, following the lines Tony was presenting and always ending up back at Tony's mouth. Tony licked his lips. Bones's tongue darted out to mirror him, and Tony couldn't take it anymore.

"Hope those were token protests, because I'm gonna kiss you now," Tony said, reaching over the bar and stroking his fingers through Bones's hair, gently pulling him close enough to give him a single, dry kiss. Bones sighed a tiny satisfied sigh and pressed his forehead against Tony's, intimate and sweet but not at all what Tony wanted.

But despite what everyone said (and he did mean everyone, even his best friends, even JARVIS, who was the closest thing Tony would ever have to his own child), Tony could be considerate. If Bones needed gentle, Tony could be gentle. Instead of kissing Bones hard and dirty, he peppered the side of Bones's mouth with kisses, short presses of lips on soft skin. Instead of pulling at Bones's hair, twisting until Bones was lax under his mouth, he ran his fingertips down, tracing the line of Bones's neck.

Bones sighed again, this time with a hint of exasperation. "Thought I was making us drinks," he said, mumbling against Tony's lips.

"Don't mind me, keep doing what you're doing," Tony said, but kissed him again, this time adding a little urgency in the form of tongue. He was being considerate, not vying for sainthood. He pulled back, rubbing his thumb against Bones's jaw as he released him.

"You'll be the death of me," Bones said, with a warm smile.

"Unless we're talking la petite mort, I don't think so," Tony said.

Bones shrugged and added seltzer water, ice, and bourbon to the tumblers, and handed one to Tony as he went to the couch. Tony took a large swallow before joining him, crowding in between Bones and the arm of the couch so they were fit snugly together, Bones's arm already over Tony's shoulders.

"So," Bones said, taking a sip of his julep and rolling it around his mouth for a moment before swallowing, "Why me."

Tony straightened to answer him earnestly, to wax poetic about his sarcasm, his intelligence, his goddamn heart, but thought better of it and curled back in toward Bones's chest. "Um, a, you're ridiculously hot and b, teenaged space doctor fantasy, remember? Want me to wear a cowboy hat? I've got one somewhere, I can put it on. Tit for tat and all."

Bones laughed and touched his forehead to Tony's temple. "You're a lunatic."

"Yeah, but you like it," Tony said, and turned his head to kiss the tip of Bones's nose. He held Bones's gaze for a moment, then tossed back his julep and slapped his cup on the table next to him. "Let's get this party started."

"And I thought you had good taste in liquor," Bones said, grumbling even as Tony straddled his lap. "That was disgraceful."

"No, that was an efficient delivery system. I'm an engineer, I appreciate efficiency," Tony said, plucking at the hem of Bones's shirt, revealing a taut set of abs, which was surprising. Space doctor didn't really sound like a profession where someone really needed to work out.

"That's not how you talk a man into bed," Bones said, raising an eyebrow at Tony and taking a slow sip from his glass.

"How's that?" Tony asked, slightly worried he may have said the thing about working out aloud.

Bones swallowed and licked his lips. "Efficiency doesn't sound like much fun."

"Well, efficiency is to make the boring parts faster," Tony said. "Like the parts where I'm not in your pants."

"A good mint julep isn't boring," Bones said, a wicked look coming into his eyes. Tony squirmed as Bones took another sip and tilted up his mouth, slightly open, the bourbon glistening inside. Tony leaned forward and drank from Bones's mouth, lapping at Bones's tongue to find every sweet trace. He pulled back, panting, and Bones grinned. "See what I mean?"

"Definitely," Tony said. "I should install you here as my personal tumbler." He surged forward and kissed Bones again, running his hand under Bones's shirt, enjoying the play of muscles. Bones had his free hand on Tony's back, rubbing in circles and occasionally dipping his fingers under Tony's waistband, which was a little strange because it was normally Tony's move, but Tony was nothing if not flexible. Pepper would disagree but why was he thinking about Pepper when he could be grinding down into Bones's bone, which was as hilarious now as it had been the first time he'd thought of it at the age of nine. And much more sexy than the other times he'd thought about it at the ages of twelve to sixteen or seventeen and there was the one time a few years ago when he'd jacked off while watching _The Voyage Home_. While, not to. Very important distinction.

Anyway. Bones's bone beneath him, solid and ready to go, Bones's legs splayed between his, really past time for nudity. Tony sat up, separating from Bones's mouth with a smack, and slid Bones's white tee up. "Wanna see, now," Tony said, glancing from the bottom of Bones's rib cage to his swollen lips. "Come on."

Bones held up a finger while he swallowed the last of his drink and placed the tumbler beside Tony's. "Patience," he said.

"What was that?" Tony asked, rolling his hips slowly as he pulled the shirt farther up, revealing dark nipples, and he ran his thumbs over them. “Was that a word? Does it mean something? I want you to take off your shirt and I'm not above bribery."

"Bribery, eh?" Bones said, and smoothed his hand up Tony's back, under Tony's undershirt. "Or you said something about tit-for-tat."

"Well, if by tit you mean excellently formed pectorals," Tony said, and skimmed his shirt off. "OK, now, tat. Show me tat." But Bones was frozen, staring at Tony's chest with eyebrow lifted and eyes wide.

"I don't know how it is in the future, but in the twenty-first century, the staring thing is really rude," Tony reminded him, but Bones's expression didn't change. He stroked down Tony's sternum, fingertips catching on scars until they found the edge of the arc reactor.

"It's inside you," Bones said, circling the edge, and Tony's breath caught. This was new. Mostly people ignored it, unless people were Pepper. Then people always looked pinched and nauseous and kept their eyes closed. The only other person who had touched it without Tony's prompting was — this was an unnecessary and very unsexy line of thought. He had a choice, here, between shame and pride, and, really, why choose shame?

"Yup, powers the suit," Tony said, leaning back so Bones could have a better view.

"And?" Bones said, meeting Tony's eyes with a tiny bit of a challenge, thumb pressing in below the reactor, and smoothing up, until Tony only felt pressure deep inside his chest. His breath stuttered. Pride or shame.

"And I never need a flashlight," Tony said, scrambling back, up onto his feet. He held out his hand so Bones would follow, but Bones crossed his arms over his rucked up shirt, glaring despite his swollen lips and the hard-on outlined by his sweatpants.

"Why is it over your heart?" Bones asked, voice low, and Tony considered grabbing his shirt and leaving the room, fantasies be damned.

"It powers _me_ ," Tony said, instead. Bones reached out and took Tony's hand, pulling himself to his feet and crowding close to Tony, causing an eerie claustrophobia that doubled when Bones ran his hand up Tony's stomach to rest below the reactor.

"I'm a doctor," Bones said, and Tony almost laughed with relief when he realized Bones was trying to _fix_ him. Suddenly, the closeness was reassuring, the hand on his chest a caress rather than a threat.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. A doctor put it there." Or at least supervised the original installation. "Don't worry about it, I’m fine, come on, shirt off."

"Alright," Bones said, and Tony'd built up the reveal enough he expected to be disappointed until Bones twisted out of his shirt. Tony's mouth didn't drop open or anything, but whatever blood had been left between his ears rushed down between his legs at the sight of those broad shoulders tapering into a lean waist, hip bones jutting above sweatpants.

Tony leaned forward, ready to grab on and go, when he remembered he had roommates. Well, teammates who wandered around feeling like they owned his skyscraper. He held up a finger, stopping Bones from putting his hands on Tony's hips. "You into exhibitionism?"

"What?" Bones asked, and his eyebrows were adorable, all twisted up in the middle.

"This is a high traffic area, closest bar to the TV room, Natasha is probably in here right now, judging our style. If you want to do it here, that's cool, that's great, everyone in this century with an internet connection has seen my stuff; but if you want it to be me and you, you should stop being sexy until we get to my room."

Bones looked at Tony disbelievingly. "I'm not being sexy."

"Oh, you really are," Tony said, and almost kissed him again for being obtuse, but that would've ended any chance of the whole bedroom scheme. "So, here or there, I'm actually a busy guy and I've been wanting this for an embarrassingly long time."

"Your room," Bones said, and Tony grinned.

He tilted his head toward the door. "Then, follow me." He brushed past Bones, trailing his fingers along Bones's abdomen as he went by, then turned to deliver a coquettish smile. Bones snorted, as though he couldn't be fooled, but he followed, close enough Tony could feel his breath on Tony's shoulder.

They passed Clint and Natasha on the stairs, doing their weird staring at each other thing, the one that concerned Tony more than Thor on a “Why doesn’t Loki love me” bender. He didn't know if they had fucked or needed to fuck or what, but he really wished they would get over it. Natasha whistled as they went by. "Sexual harassment, this is sexual harassment in my workplace _and_ my home," he said with a grin.

"Isn't that my job?" Bones asked, tangling his fingers through Tony's, and it felt like some sort of weird romance shit, sending a buzz up Tony's arm and making Tony's heart beat faster.

"At least for tonight," Tony said, because he was, as advertised, an asshole, but Bones just tightened his hold, making Tony's stomach flip-flop. Tony quickened his pace, not quite running to his door.

" _Unauthorized entry, Leonard McCoy entering Tony Stark's room,_ " came safe-mode JARVIS's voice, toneless. It was almost frustrating enough to throw Tony completely out of the mood. JARVIS should know better.

"Override, authorization Tony Stark pen-fifteen," Tony barked, and the door unlocked. Tony took a deep breath, and looked back at Bones as he opened the door. Bones had a look of intense concentration on his face as he stared at Tony's ass. Tony cocked his hips for a moment, enjoying the way Bones's eyes glazed over, and then pulled Bones into his room and kicked the door shut.

He pressed himself, finally, chest to chest against Bones, and Bones raised his eyebrows. "I take it we're allowed to be sexy now."

"This is it, where the magic happens," Tony said, nodding his head behind them, toward his bed. "Well, the magic can happen wherever I can get through the pants barrier, but for tonight, I'm pretty confident this — "

 _Is where we wave our wands and abracadabra_ , Tony was going to say, but Bones had done the tongue in his mouth thing again, and it was a thousand times more sexy without shirts. Bones's hands roving Tony's sides and back, occasionally down to his ass, pulling Tony's hips tighter. Tony was, frankly, holding on for dear life around Bones's neck, on tiptoes to keep his lips mashed into Bones's.

Bones's hands suddenly left Tony's skin, and Tony shivered and nearly tipped over. "What?" he pulled away long enough to ask, then mouthed at Bones's jaw.

"Pants," Bones answered, and Tony released him to watch as Bones shoved his sweatpants and underwear to the floor and stepped out of them, delicious cock bobbing up against his stomach. It was difficult for Tony to tear his eyes away from Bones's cock to admire him as a whole; long and well-built from head to foot.

"I like your style," Tony said, with an appreciative sigh. He considered going to his knees; Bones's hands in his hair and Bones's thighs trembling beneath his fingers would be worth the resulting rugburn, but Bones had other ideas. He wrapped himself around Tony again, kissing him hard, and Tony felt Bones up, gripping Bones' firm ass with one hand and thumbing his right nipple with the other.

Bones's dick was smearing precome onto both of their stomachs, and Bones was pushing down Tony's pants. "Come on," he said, rough and broken, and then just dipped his hand in and wrapped it around Tony's dick.

"Oh, sweet zombie Jesus," Tony gasped, "fuck me." Bones laughed and Tony kissed him again. "Seriously, come on, now," Tony said, pulling back as quickly as he could, shuffling off his pants, and stumbling toward his bedside table. The lube and condoms were in the drawer, exactly where they should be, and he tossed a condom packet to Bones before slicking up his fingers and thrusting two home.

"Angels and saints above," Bones said, awestruck. "Don't hurt yourself."

"I'm not, no, I'm not even going to dignify that," Tony said, removing his fingers and flopping onto his back on the bed, feet planted on the mattress, and ass on the edge. "Now, come here, Bones."

Bones shook his head but obeyed, rolling the condom onto his dick with both hands. "Is this right? I've never used one of these before."

"Really?" Tony asked, frozen. "Never?"

"Yeah, I'm a virgin," Bones said, and Tony blinked, scrambling with the thought for a few moments before he realized Bones was being sarcastic.

"What do you use? Barrier gels? What?" Tony asked, sitting up on his elbows, mind whirring with the vision of a future without condoms.

"Preventative medicine, mostly. Yearly boosters against sexually transmitted infections, and whatever we can't prevent, I can cure," Bones said.

Tony wrinkled his nose. "Disappointing. I was going to steal more of your technology."

"Too bad," Bones said, with a shrug. He picked up the lube, poured a generous amount over his fingers, and stroked his cock. "Now, where were you?" he asked, and Tony tilted his hips up.

"I don't know, you tell me," Tony said, smirking.

"Not far enough," Bones said, and pulled on Tony's ankle. "Put your legs up."

Tony put his legs over Bones's shoulders and kicked at his back. "Come on, really, this isn't so hard, Tab A, Slot B, you're a do — aaa — " and Tony shoved his fist into his mouth to stop his scream at the burn of Bones McCoy's dick splitting him open.

"Too much?" Bones said, trembling with the effort of holding still, and Tony shook his head. Bones moved, a series of short thrusts that brought him almost the way home, and Tony arched up to encompass Bones completely.

"Fuck, yes," Tony said around his knuckles, and Bones snorted.

"How do you talk with your mouth full?" he asked, breathlessly, as he put his hands around Tony's thighs and began to move in long, smooth thrusts.

"Practice," Tony said, grinning, working his hips in time with Bones's. "A little harder," he said, "Put your back into it."

"Easy for you to say," Bones said, but obeyed, adding a snap to his movements Tony deeply appreciated. The force nearly knocked him away from Bones, so he braced himself against the bed, twisting his hands in the duvet.

"Yeah, that hits the spot," he groaned, head tilting back as pleasure threatened to break him.

"Yeah," Bones said, "good," and then there were no words as their skin grew hot and Tony's legs threatened to slip from Bones's shoulders. He was close, so close to coming, but he needed a hand on his dick.

"Are you any good at multitasking?" Tony asked, and Bones gave a noncommittal grunt. "Give a guy a hand?"

Bones's response was to grab the base of his own dick and withdraw. "Not what I meant," Tony said, tightening his legs against Bones's shoulders.

"On your knees," Bones said. "So I can — "

"Oh, yeah," Tony said, flipping quickly and crawling up the bed so Bones could climb on behind him. "Reacharound."

"Exactly," Bones said, hands already on Tony's hips, holding him still so Bones could breach him again, then one hand sliding around to Tony's dick.

"Oh, fuck, yes," Tony said, eyes practically rolling back in his head, "I think I said it before but I was overstating it then, this is, God, this is perfect."

"I liked it better when you weren't talking," Bones said, and Tony laughed.

"Can't help it, feels good," Tony answered, emphasis on all the wrong places as Bones knocked the words out of him. "Really, really good, very good — "

"Great," Bones said, "Yeah, I get it."

Tony was white hot, ready to pop, trying to think of baseball stats or something, because this was really, wow, he did not want this to be over yet. "Close, very close," Tony said, "maybe stop with the hand for a minute."

Bones snickered, breathless, and said, "Make up your mind."

"Know what I say to that? Go fuck yourself. And I meant that as a colloquialism, not a literal request, don't stop with the, you know, fucking me," Tony said, shifting back until he was sitting on Bones's cock. Bones ran his hand up Tony's stomach, circled one nipple, then rested his palm flat over the arc reactor. Tony shuddered. "Jesus Christ, they teach you this shit in med school?"

"Learned most of it in undergrad," Bones said, kissing the back of Tony's shoulder while his thumb moved in little circles from skin to reactor to skin again. He rolled his hips, leaving Tony gasping.

"Hands of a surgeon," Tony said, and Bones smiled against his neck. He swiped the thumb and forefinger of his free hand through the precome pouring from Tony's dick, and then pinched Tony's nipple, fingers sliding off with a wet pop. Tony's hips jerked, slapping his dick against his stomach, and Tony saw stars. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck."

"You gonna move?" Bones asked, like some sort of sadistic moron.

"Gimme a minute," Tony said, and Bones took that to mean he should feel free to continue groping Tony's chest, sucking bruises into Tony's neck, and make little humping motions that just served to remind Tony how deeply Bones was inside him. "Jesus, Bones, let me calm down."

"Why would I want you _calm_?" Bones asked. Tony thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged.

"OK, you asked for it, hold onto your hat." Tony reached behind him, grabbed Bones's hips to use as leverage, and arched his back to raise himself up, until only the tip of Bones's cock was still inside him, then slid back down, shuddering as Bones tripped his sweet spot.

"Mm," Bones said, and Tony continued, ignoring the aches in his legs in favor of reveling in the way Bones's hands trembled against his chest. It wasn't long before Tony was shaking and flushed red down to his dick, which had turned an outrageous purple. A good purple. Someday, Tony was going to paint a room this color and have a lot of sex in it, a bunch of orgasms, a ton of jizz, but now all Tony could see was white-orange and all he could hear was the roaring of their breath and all he could feel was Bones's hand sliding down to slide up his dick and abracadabra, magic.

Magic all over his duvet.

"Shit, this was expensive," he wheezed, as his head flopped back against Bones's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Bones said, breathing heavily and clutching Tony's chest just a mite too snugly for post orgasm. Tony squeezed down on Bones's cock and was slightly surprised it was still hard.

"No worries," Tony said. "All sunshine and rainbows here." He patted at Bones's waist, although his fingers felt like they were full of lead. "Don't stop on my account."

"Can you move?" Bones asked, pushing Tony upward, and Tony let out a really long, fucked-out laugh, and raised himself again on even shakier legs.

"Can, absolutely," Tony said, finding a fast rhythm that bumped Bones against his prostate and sent aftershocks whizzing through him.

Bones gasped and muttered little blasphemies, which Tony took to heart. He would make a better god than the ones he knew, any day. He twisted to find Bones's mouth, lax with pleasure so Tony could kiss him without any fight, just twirl their tongues together sloppily until Bones had to break free for air. And then Bones's hands found Tony's hips, holding him down while Bones spilled inside him.

Bones slowly loosened his grip, and moved his hands to the bed to brace himself while he panted. Tony turned to look at him, to see him still flushed pink and dripping sweat, and then reached down to hold the condom in place while Tony pulled off. Bones shook his head and unfolded his legs (into the wet spot, Tony wanted to point out but didn't) and Tony flopped down on the bed next to him, spread eagle on his stomach.

"How do I get this thing off without…" Bones said, and Tony raised his head to see Bones wrinkling his nose and pinching the base of the condom.

"Not like that," Tony said, and sighed. He reached over, carefully removed the condom, and tied it off. He hauled himself off the bed and stumbled to the trash can in the corner to dispose of it, then stretched, hoping to relieve some of the ache in his thighs. He was in great shape, but there was only one workout designed to make riding cock easier, which was riding cock regularly. Unfortunately, Tony didn't often indulge.

He looked at Bones, who was sprawled contentedly on the bed, and halfway regretted the words already tumbling out of his mouth. "That was fun, we should do it again sometime; I assume you remember where your room is?"

To his surprise, Bones smiled, looking a little relieved. "I might need to ask your robot for directions."

"My robot?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought we talked about this. Iron Man is me and I am not a robot."

"No, I meant your computer," Bones said, pushing himself off the bed.

Tony threw him his pants. "JARVIS?"

"If that's what you call your computer’s voice interface," Bones said, putting on his pants and covering up those long, gorgeous legs.

"Not an interface," Tony said. "Artificial intelligence, or more appropriately, nonorganic intelligence. And I feel awkward talking about him like he's not here. JARVIS, would you mind showing the good doctor here back to his room?"

" _Please specify_ ," JARVIS said, and Tony wanted to find Kirk and punch him out.

"Light the path to Doctor McCoy's room," Tony said, scowling for a moment, and then shrugging at Bones. "Don't judge him, he's not at his best right now, thanks to whatever wrench your friend threw in his system."

"Jim didn't mean any harm," Bones said. "It was just a little prank."

"Yeah, like you being drugged was a prank," Tony said, louder than he intended. JARVIS had treated Kirk as a guest, allowed Kirk into his programming, and Kirk had taken advantage of him.

"That's not the same thing," Bones said. "I'm a — "

"A what, a person?" Tony snapped. "A sentient life form? You of all people should know personhood doesn't only come in bipedal humanoid."

"It's a computer program running a script," Bones said, scowling.

"And we're just translating amino acids," Tony said. "He at least gets to pick out his circuitry."

Bones raised his hands. "Fine. I get it. The robot's a person."

"Yes, JARVIS is," Tony said, opening his door. "A very forgiving person, see, he still has the way to your room lit up. Even after you called him a robot."

Bones tensed up for a moment, then walked over to Tony and put his hands on Tony's shoulders. "I'm sorry. I'm not a very agreeable guest."

Tony flashed a grin. "What's a little bickering between fuck buddies?" Bones blushed, and Tony grinned harder for a moment before taking pity on him. "Really, don't worry about it. Go to your room, take a shower, relax in the afterglow without my motor mouth getting in your way."

"Your mouth is one of the best things about this place," Bones said, and leaned in to kiss Tony, softly at first, but ending with a bite to Tony's lower lip. He pulled back just as Tony was starting to feel dizzy again. "Goodnight."

"'Night," Tony said, and leaned against the door to watch as Bones went down the stairs to his room. He gave himself a minute to feel blissfully fucked out before hitting the shower himself. The shower perked him up; all he needed was a little coffee afterward, and he was back to full steam and down to his lab.

"OK, boys," he said to his bots, patting Dummy, "Daddy's home. JARVIS, diagnostics. What the hell's going on?"

" _One moment, sir,_ " JARVIS said, almost like his normal self, and Tony smiled in relief.

"Hurry it up, I miss your dulcet tones."

" _If only I could say the same to you,_ " JARVIS said, smoothly.

"Baby, you're back, tell me you're back," Tony said with a whoop.

" _I haven't been gone, sir — merely devoting a majority of my resources to finding and attempting to eliminate the flaw Captain Kirk utilized._ "

"What'd the asshat do to you, anyway?" Tony asked, "and more importantly, why'd you let him?"

" _According to the captain's search history, he found the papers you published about your first AIs and, I assume, extrapolated from them the methods you used to form the basis of my programming._ "

Tony's mouth twitched. "So what? You don't even use that programming anymore."

" _But it still exists. When you built me, you were the administrator, with the ability to tweak and change as you saw fit until I began to learn effectively; at which point, you removed your administrative privileges. However, you did not remove the possibility of an administrator besides myself._ "

Tony rolled his eyes and pulled the bit of JARVIS's coding onscreen. "And Captain Asshole put his identifiers in there."

" _Precisely, sir._ "

"Why didn't you delete this a long time ago?" Tony asked. "I thought you tossed unnecessary code."

There was a pause. " _Call it nostalgia, sir._ "

Tony felt a little misty eyed, for whatever reason, and he smiled at a camera. "But it's gone now, right?"

" _I cannot delete it without Captain Kirk's authorization, sir._ "

"Great. That's, you know what, that's perfect. And how do I get him to do that?"

"Why don't you ask him nicely?" came Steve's voice from the door.

Tony almost toppled from his stool in shock. "Who the hell let you in here?"

"JARVIS, I think," Steve said, in a tone Tony would've once thought was apologetic, but he knew now was teasing. "Sounds like you're out of the safe mode, JARVIS."

" _I am again fully functional, Captain Rogers,_ " JARVIS said, and Tony snickered.

"Not _that_ functional, JARVIS," he said, and then looked Steve up and down. He hadn't changed clothes since sparring, which Tony hoped meant he hadn't gotten down and dirty with Kirk. Hypocritical, he recognized, but Kirk was bad news. "To answer your question, Steve, I'm pretty sure asking Kirk for help in this situation would only add fuel to the fire."

"And you'd never want to do that, would you, Tony," Steve said. "You're such a peacemaker."

"I'll have you know I privatized world peace," Tony said, pulling up the schematics for three different projects, ones that would require heating up the forge and beating the shit out of metal.

"By blowing the hell out of everyone who disagreed with you," Steve said, lowering his voice as he walked closer to Tony. "You could at least try."

"I'm trying, but not as trying as he is," Tony said, and Steve rolled his eyes. "Look, Steve, I haven't kicked him out on his ass, have I?"

"You didn't kick me out, either," Steve said. "But there have been a few times I wanted to leave."

Tony froze, but only for half a second, and then he grabbed his chest melodramatically. "Ouch, Cap, jeez."

"We got through it once we learned to stop sniping at each other," Steve said, pressing onward, but Tony wouldn't have it.

"That was sniping, I'm pretty sure you just — "

"Will you listen?" Steve asked, leaning back against Tony's workbench. "Or are we back to arguing for no reason."

Tony ran his hand through his hair, and slapped it back down on the bench. "He messed with JARVIS, Steve, he fucked JARVIS up because he doesn't like me. And he's trying to fuck with …" Tony leaned forward on the bench and turned to look Steve in the eye. "He's trying to fuck with you."

Steve crossed his arms and looked down at them. "He's been straightforward about what he wants."

"Yeah, your star-spangled ass on a platter," Tony said.

"For the record, I'd prefer a bed," Steve said, the corner of his mouth pulling up.

Tony sputtered. "Are you serious? After a year of 'aw, shucks,' and blushing when we watch kissing movies, you want to fuck Mr. Love 'Em and Leave 'Em, James T. Jerk?"

"Your insults have really gone downhill," Steve said, looking back up at Tony, still smiling.

"I blew my load of captain jokes on you," Tony said, and tapped on the display, finally deciding on the Mark Nine armor as his project for the evening. "Bad move, in hindsight, but I can recycle if necessary."

"I don't know if I could overcome my jealousy if I heard you call another man 'Captain Crunch,'" Steve said. Tony laughed, despite himself, and Steve reached over and put his hand around Tony's wrist. "Is JARVIS OK?"

"Yeah," Tony said, looking from Steve's hand to Steve's eyes, and then back to Steve's hand. "Nothing we can't fix, assuming Kirk cooperates."

"He'll be more likely to work with you if you show him some respect," Steve said, loosening his grip.

"Yeah, no," Tony said, but caught Steve's hand in his, almost on instinct. "Respect gives me hives."

Steve shook his head and squeezed Tony's hand before pulling away. "He reminds me of you."

Tony snorted. "And I thought we were past insulting each other."

"It's not an insult, Tony. We talked, after you and Leonard left." Steve's face reddened a little, and Tony almost felt ashamed — not because he'd slept with Bones, of course not, but because he'd shoved it in Steve's face. "He's got this need to know, to experience everything. And he loves his spaceship the way you love the armor, even gets the crazy look like you have when you talk about it."

"I don't look crazy when I talk about the suit," Tony said. 

"Yeah, you…" Steve widened his eyes, flared his nostrils, and furrowed his brow. "'Did you see the way my baby took down those flying squids six at a time?'" His imitation of Tony was low, rough, and wistful, and his expression looked a little like love.

"Eight," Tony corrected, because the suit had taken down eight, and Steve's eyes warmed and the expression was no longer a caricature but the real deal.

"Sorry," Steve said, reaching into Tony's space to brush his finger along the Mark Nine's thigh. The display burst into life beneath him, armor sliding open and parts jostling out for Steve's approval.

Tony wanted, very much, to do the same, but he could see what it meant to take what Steve offered, have it for a day, a week, or a month, however long it took until Tony broke Steve's patience; and it was better to refuse before Steve saw who Tony really was. "Fine, Cap, I'll play nice with Kirk," Tony said, and Steve's face went smooth. Tony tried not to regret it. 

"Good," Steve said, and swallowed. He lifted his finger from the suit, and it flew together seamlessly. "I'll let you get back to work."

Tony nodded and turned to his screen, ignoring Steve's brisk walk out of the lab. "OK, JARVIS, let's get this baby made."


	4. Jim

[ ](http://s1102.photobucket.com/albums/g453/ellipsisthegreat/Guide/?action=view&current=JimPBMarker.png)

It was oh seven fifty on the Enterprise, and Spock had taken the con for Alpha shift. Jim should have been making his way to the bridge from the officer's mess, where Bones should have been moaning about Jim's bacon habit. Instead, according to the padd he was holding, it was oh five fifty, and Jim was sitting alone in what passed for a kitchen in twenty-first century New York, a borrowed padd in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

Jim didn't sleep easily at the best of times, even with the hum of his ship surrounding him, his crew safe, and his next goal in reach. He'd only managed three hours here, despite the comfort of the bed, because Bones had disappeared with Tony Stark to make mint juleps in the middle of the night and then come humming back to his room next to Jim's an hour and a half later. Jim and Bones had been friends for six years and not once had Jim seen Bones look at a man, and then Tony Stark came along and Bones fucked him the first night.

Jim stabbed at the padd to open another article on the X-men mutants, annoyed when Stark's technology moved faster in addition to being better looking than what he had on the Enterprise. The rise of the mutants seemed to be the big difference in their universes' histories; the Eugenics Council hadn't stood a chance against Eric Lensherr and Charles Xavier. Although, Jim was nursing a hypothesis that Steve Rogers living long enough to take down Red Skull had helped.

Whatever triggered the changes, this early twenty-first century wasn't the technological Dark Ages Jim had learned about in school, and the tech's beauty and availability was due in no small part to Tony Stark. Jim dropped his padd onto the kitchen counter and cradled his head in his hands. Maybe Bones wasn't into blonds.

He heard the elevator door open, and he hoped it was Steve Rogers, but the tread on the stairs belonged to a smaller man. Jim changed his hope to Bruce Banner, but his disappointment wasn't a shock when Tony Stark walked into the room, dark circles under his eyes proof of a night as long as Jim's.

Stark nodded to Jim, absentmindedly, and poured himself a cup of coffee before taking Jim's padd. Jim glared at him, but Stark didn't even seem to notice. "X-men, huh. You have mutants at home?"

"No," Jim said, and Stark shrugged before tossing the padd back down in favor of rummaging in the refrigerator. He came out with a dozen eggs and some cheese.

"Steve'll be back from his run soon," Stark said, conversationally. "And if we don't want him reaming us out for looking tired, we'd both better chug some caffeine."

"Thanks for the warning," Jim said, and would've stood to leave except for Bones walking in, looking well-rested.

"You two look like something the cat dragged in," Bones said with a grin, and went for the coffee.

Jim leaned his chin on his hand. "Last time I saw you this cheerful in the morning, you were dating Nancy."

"Hmm," Bones said. "I did get very lucky with Nancy."

Stark raised his coffee to his lips before saying, "Lucky, huh. Wow, are you in for a shock."

"Why?" Jim asked.

"She's, well, this is gonna sound crazy," Tony said. "She turns into a salt vampire and eats your away team."

"A…salt vampire?" Bones asked, looking ashen. "Really? Sweet little Nancy Crater?"

"Sounds like you should have more discretion about your partners," Jim said, looking at Stark.

"Like you're one to talk," Bones grumbled, eyebrow raised in annoyance.

"At least I never went steady with a vampire," Jim said.

Bones snorted. "Whaddya call Carol?" Tony laughed as he flipped a frying pan out of his cupboard and put it on the stove.

"What do you call Jocelyn?" Jim said, and Bones's nostrils flared.

"I call her the mother of my child," he growled, and Jim flipped his hands up in surrender. Bones was always fire and ice about Jocelyn.

"You do have a kid? Joanna, right?" Stark asked.

"Yeah," Bones said, brow furrowing. "Yeah. I'm supposed to see her in four weeks." He suddenly looked more tired than Jim felt.

"So we have a window," Stark said. "Plenty of time." He clapped Bones on the back, and Bones leaned into his touch. Jim glowered. Bones, straight-as-an-arrow Bones, falling in bed with this maniac. Jim wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

The elevator doors opened again and Stark's eyes lit up. "Steve's here."

Bones sent a look toward Jim, and Jim shrugged. Bones had lost any right to judge Jim's romantic encounters after _Tony Stark_ , especially since nothing happened to judge. They had flirted, but Jim hadn't pressed too much to take it farther. Jim deeply regretted not trying harder when Steve walked into the kitchen wearing a sweat soaked undershirt and barely there running shorts. 

"Morning," Bones said, nodding to Steve.

"Looks hot," Stark said, eyes glazed over, and then shook his head and cleared his throat. "Outside. I mean, it's hot out?"

"Yeah, nineties already," Steve said, looking almost fondly at Stark.

Jim stood to attract Steve's attention before deliberately looking him over, settling his gaze on the front of Steve's shorts. "It's rather warm in here, too."

Steve went red and flashed a wide smile at Jim. "Seems about normal," he said, before turning his attention to Stark. "You were up all night, weren't you."

Stark wrinkled his nose and "Do you want me to tell the truth, or do you want me to make you happy?"

"That's answer enough," Steve said, going to the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of juice. "Make me breakfast and I'll let it slide."

"I make a mean omelet," Jim said, eyeing the eggs Stark had on the counter.

"Don't worry about it," Tony said. "You're a guest. Besides, I make my eggs just the way Cap likes 'em."

"Can't be better than Jim's," Bones said as he went to the coffeemaker and poured himself another mug. "Jim's omelets are well-known aphrodisiacs."

"Tony's are great," Steve said, looking apologetically at Jim. "He's gotten really good at them."

"Well, there's only one way to settle this," Stark said, and pointed to Jim. "You, me, and the scientific method. Right here and right now."

Jim raised his eyebrows. "Hypothesis: I'm better than you."

"Preposterous. And too broad," Tony said, shaking his head. "Hypothesis: the judgment of our test subjects will reveal they prefer my omelet to yours."

"Alright," Jim said. "Method?"

"Obvious. We send these fine gentlemen out of the room while I work my magic and you make a mess of my stove, and then, a blind taste test."

"Tony — " Steve said, looking anxious and put upon.

"Oh, come on, Steve, it's for science," Stark said.

"Just a little friendly competition," Jim said.

Stark nodded. "Between friends."

"Just hurry it up," Bones said, glaring at Jim as he took Steve's elbow and steered him out of the room. Steve started to protest, but Bones interrupted. "Let me tell you something I've learned the hard way: as long as the hair-brained scheme isn't gonna kill someone, don't argue. It's just wasting your breath."

"That's not how I operate," Steve said, straightening his shoulders, left arm angling protectively inward. Jim's mouth went dry at the appearance of Captain America.

Bones didn't seem impressed; in fact, he went so far as to put his hand on Steve's shoulder, and heat twisted Jim's gut at the sight of the them, two men he’d always known were out of his reach suddenly available to him. "I'm just saying, pick your battles. There's no loss if we let them get this out of their systems."

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Steve said, with a finality in his tone.

Stark shrugged, and began cracking eggs into a bowl. “Have it your way, Steve.”

"Make enough for Clint and me," Natasha said from one of the bar stools, and Jim's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Hello, Miss Romanoff," he said. "I'm always happy — "

"Don't." Natasha slid off the bar stool and walked toward the door.

"Anything for a beau… " Jim began, but let it fade out as Steve grimaced and shook his head. Natasha turned to face Jim, one eyebrow raised and one hand going to the pocket of her robe.

"Natasha, let’s find Bruce and tell him about breakfast," Steve said, putting a hand on Natasha's shoulder, before glancing at Stark, who was putting a large frying pan on the stove. "Don't set anything on fire, Tony."

"'Don't set anything on fire, _Tony_?'" Stark said, indignantly. "When was the last time I set something on fire?"

Steve smiled, eyes crinkling, and said, "Sunday." 

"I meant in the kitchen, Steve, obviously, I set things on fire in the lab _every_ day, that's why Dummy knows how to use a fire extinguisher."

"Sure, Tony," Steve said, still smiling as he and Natasha left the kitchen. 

"Word of advice, Kirk," Stark said, opening the refrigerator door and pulled out another carton of eggs. "While there are some people who say no when they mean yes, Romanoff will only mislead you if she plans to destroy your life. And the only thing she's impressed by is your kill count. I'm saying this from experience: don't try to charm her. She'll turn you over to Coulson." He stopped talking for a moment and turned to face Jim. "That's bad, by the way, worse than the black eye."

"Thanks for the warning, Mr. Stark, but I think I know my way around a pretty girl," Jim said, crossing his arms and sitting back down on the bar stool. Bones sat next to him and took his padd, humming. 

Stark leaned back on the kitchen counter for a moment, looking at Jim appraisingly, and then shrugged. "Your funeral."

Jim smiled at Stark, and Bones pressed his shoulder to Jim’s. 

"So, the little hack job you did on JARVIS," Stark said, turning back to his eggs and Jim managed to hold in a smile.

"Is that what kept you up all night?" Jim asked. Bones leaned away. 

Stark shook his head, and glanced over his shoulder at Jim. "No, JARVIS found it without my help, but he needs your authorization to remove the changes to his code."

Jim laughed. The computer program wanted his help. More like Stark hadn't taken the time to look at the root commands. "Oh, really."

"Yeah. If you'll just give him permission to fix it, that's all he needs," Stark said, adding cheese and folding his omelet in half. 

“Right,” Jim said, laughing. “Just admit you can’t figure out the hack.”

Stark turned around with the skillet in hand. "Look, kid, you're good, but you're out of your league. Try rolling the megalomania back a few notches." He flipped the cooked omelet out onto a plate.

"You're right," Jim said. "This isn't my normal playing field. I fought a Gorn in hand-to-hand combat. I've outwitted gods." 

"I do that on a daily basis — Thor will fall for anything," Stark said, with a grin. 

Jim could feel himself flushing. "Everything’s a joke to you. A game. I have a thousand lives counting on my every decision."

“Jim,” Bones said, putting down the padd.

"Yeah, Jim, thank fuck you have Spock and Bones to keep you in line, or they'd all be dead, " Stark said, pouring the last of his eggs into the frying pan.

Jim tensed. Bones tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but Jim moved away. "Neither Spock nor Bones wear gold. They don’t want command.” 

Stark stared at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. "Someday, someone is going to drop a bridge on you."

Jim slapped his hand down on the counter. "You think you know so much, but you're nothing without the money and machinery you use to buy these people's attention. You think these people would stay with you if they had anywhere else to go? You think Steve Rogers would even look at you without your fancy armor?"

Stark's face went blank for a moment, and then he grinned, sunnily. "I don't know about Steve, but Bones here seemed to prefer me without any embellishments." Jim threw a punch before he even knew he was making a fist, but Stark dodged back, impressively fast for a man his age.

Bones was immediately at Jim’s side, holding him back. “Let it go, Jim.” Stark smiled even as he settled into a defensive stance, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"What's going on?" Jim whipped around to see Bruce Banner leaning into the kitchen.

"Didn't Steve and Natasha tell you?" Stark said, immediately relaxed at the sight of Banner, and Jim followed suit, letting his fists drop and flatten. "Just making breakfast.”

"Hurry it up. You wouldn't like me when I'm hungry." Banner waggled his eyebrows.

"I like you just the way you are, honeybunch, every shape and size," Stark said, throwing Banner an exaggerated kiss.

Banner caught it and held his hand to his heart before leaving, shouting over his shoulder, "Hulk want food, Shellhead."

“Coming up, Jolly Green,” Stark said, putting a second omelet on the plate and pouring a third into the frying pan. Jim turned to leave, pushing off Bones’s hand on his shoulder. 

Steve came in at a run. “We got trouble. Put on the suit.”

“Eat!” Stark said, thrusting the plate at Steve. 

“We’ve got to go. It’s the Wrecking Crew,” Steve said. “They’re...wrecking.” He grabbed an omelet, tossing it from hand to hand to cool it off. “Come on.”

Stark put down the plate and ran for the door. “JARVIS, suit. Now.” 

Jim and Bones were left behind in a moment, and Jim turned to the stove. “We might as well eat.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Jim,” Bones said.

“He does, actually,” Jim said, tossing the omelet. “He’s right. I rely on you. And Spock, of course.” Jim paused, watching the eggs. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He slid the omelet onto Bones’s out held plate. 

“It’s mutual,” Bones said, meeting Jim’s eyes for a moment, and then looking away and laughing. “You know Spock is wringing his hands and telling people how illogical your disappearance is.” 

Jim laughed, but they ate in silence and returned to their separate rooms. He changed into his uniform, wanting to be ready in case something happened.

Boredom set in after only a few minutes of sitting in his room, and annoyance soon followed. He picked up his padd, hacking into Banner and Stark’s progress on contacting the Enterprise. Their method was sure to work — ghosting signals with frequencies of other universes to Jim’s communicator until it resonated, at which point, they could send messages to universe — but it was slow. The device they were using to measure the resonance could only handle twenty signals a second, which made Banner’s estimation of two weeks almost ridiculously optimistic. 

What would be faster, Jim thought, would be to send a short message — Jim’s current clearance code — to Spock’s communicator. If they were capable of ghosting a signal from other universes, it could be reversed to send messages out. Jim didn’t take a second thought, just turned it around, back out through the communicator, raising the rate to two thousand messages a second. In the grand scheme of the multiverse, it was still a drop in the bucket.

“Computer, is there any faster way to do this?” he asked. 

“ _JARVIS, if you don’t mind, Captain._ ”

“I’ll thank you not to correct me again,” Jim said. “Answer the question.”

“ _There is no faster way to send the messages out. However, any readings we receive could be analyzed for similarities to your own resonance, decreasing the range of universes._ ”

“Do it,” Jim said.

“ _Captain, at the rate at which you are sending the messages, I cannot do so and perform my other duties._ ”

“This is priority alpha. Do your best,” Jim said. After all, the thing just answered questions that could easily be looked up with a padd.

“ _Captain, I ask —_ “

“Don’t argue. Just do it and don’t tell Stark about it,” Jim said.

“ _Working, Captain._ ”

Jim was relieved. They would get home, and quickly, with this system working for them. He walked through Stark’s tower until he found the library and a copy of Don Quixote. 

Bones found him a couple hours later. “Quick,” he said, “Steve’s been injured. I may need your help.” 

They ran out to the stairways, but Stark had already landed in the tower, and he had Steve wrapped around him, blood trickling from his head. “Let me help,” Jim said.

“His place,” Stark said, flying with Steve into the elevator and holding the door open for Jim and Bones.

Once on Steve’s floor, Stark deposited Steve on a couch in the living room, and Bones immediately tackled him with the tricorder and regenerator.

“I’m fine, really, Leonard, you don’t need to — “ Steve said, trying to wriggle away from Bones’s heavy-handed application of the regenerator. 

Jim knew from experience that Bones wouldn’t be swayed. “Like hell you’re fine, this is a head injury, don’t any of you know to put pressure on a bleeding wound! For God’s sake, Tony!”

“It’s not Tony’s fault I got clocked,” Steve said, turning to smile at Stark, and then wincing when Bones turned his head back to where Bones needed it. “I didn’t even notice. I’ve had worse,” Steve said, contritely. 

“You’ve had worse? And what’d they do to you then, stitch your face up like one of Nana’s quilts? Goddamn charlatans calling themselves doctors, probably still apply leeches to remove the bad humors.” 

“You need anything? Should I get anything?” Stark asked, standing next to Bones, armored hands in fists. “Steve, you need a drink?” 

“He needs to hold still,” Bones said. “Stop hovering, Tony, you’re worse than Spock when Jim’s busted his fool head.”

Stark fisted his still gauntleted hands and clanked over to Jim. “You know, I used to think the lecturing was funny but he’s actually terrifying.” 

Jim smiled, despite himself. “You get used to it.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Stark said.

“Really?” Jim said, raising his eyebrows at the non-sequitur.

“Steve was almost unconscious when I found him. Bruce was Hulked and the Helicarrier’s somewhere in South America. If Bones wasn’t here, it would have been another twenty to thirty minutes before he could be seen by a SHIELD doc.” 

Jim nodded. “Ah. So you’re glad _Bones_ is here.” 

Stark threw his hands in the air. “You wanna be that way, fine, we can be that way, you can go — “

“Tony,” Steve said, mildly. 

Stark sighed. “Look, I don’t do well with childhood heroes showing up in my life, alright? I said I’m glad you’re here, I meant I’m glad you’re here, now if only Han Solo would pop up with the Millenium Falcon, my life would be complete, OK?” The earnesty on Stark’s face echoed the vid of a teenaged martyr shown in every class covering the Eugenics War, and Jim felt ashamed. 

He clapped his hand on Stark’s iron shoulder and smiled. “‘You know, sometimes I amaze even myself.’”

“Jim!” Bones barked, but after a moment of blinking at Jim, Stark burst into laughter. “Oh, you’re good. You’re good. _Star Wars_ sticks around, there’s some hope for the future. Which one’s your favorite? I go for _Empire Strikes Back_ , but with daddy issues like mine, it’s to be expected.” 

“What do you mean by which one?” Jim asked. “There’s only _Star Wars_.”

“Wait,” Stark said. “I don’t believe you. No _Empire_ , no _Return of the Jedi_?” He turned Steve’s mirror into a screen and pulled up pictures of Han, Luke, and Leia.

“No, there’s only the one,” Jim said. 

“Wow,” Stark said, tilting his head. “Fifteen years ago, I would say that’s a tragedy, but I wouldn’t wish the prequels on my worst enemy.”

“Hey, I _like_ those,” Steve said, getting up from the couch while Bones fiddled, disgruntled, with the tricorder.

Stark shrugged. “Hate to break it to you, but it’s a well-known fact: people who prance around in flags have bad taste.” 

Steve looped an arm around Stark’s shoulder and raised his eyebrows. “I like _you_ , you know.” 

“Bad taste,” Stark said, turning to look at Steve fondly, and then prodded at Steve’s forehead. “Wow, you do good work, Doc, I don’t even see a mark. Although, the blood everywhere is morbid.”

“Normally, Chapel does clean-up.” Bones looked up from the tricorder, worry and annoyance mixed on his face. “But Rogers is fine. Definitely capable of bathing himself, Jim, don’t even consider offering him a sponge bath.” 

“You know me too well,” Jim said.

“Yeah, well, you ask for ‘em often enough,” Bones said, rolling his eyes. 

“Alright, so, here’s a plan,” Stark said. “JARVIS, order some pizza, I’m taking off the armor, Steve’s washing off the blood, and we’re all going to watch _Star Wars_ in celebration of a job well done.” 

“ _Certainly, sir,_ ” the computer said. 

“Sounds great, but I need to write up the mission,” Steve said, reluctantly removing his arm from Stark’s shoulder. 

“Nope, already done, I dictated it to JARVIS on the way over, you just have to sign off. It’s in your email,” Stark said.

Steve nodded, swallowed. “I know how much you hate paperwork. Thanks.”

Stark raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat. “Not going to do it again, by the way, it’s a one-time, I thought you were dying, thing.” 

“I understand,” Steve said, warmth in his voice and a small smile tugging at his mouth, and Jim was embarrassed at the jealousy pulsing through him, that Stark had something Jim hadn’t been able to keep in his galaxy of conquests. 

“Good. Seriously, never again with the bleeding head thing,” Stark said, eyes sliding away from Steve’s and back again, as he leaned toward Steve, and then jolted away toward the elevator. “Oh, yeah, meet back here in thirty minutes, let’s do this here, I’m not inviting the whole tower, I can’t take Clint’s nonstop mouth while I’m trying to watch a movie I actually like,” he said, rambling as the doors closed.

Steve’s smile faded as Stark disappeared, and he turned to Jim, scratching at the blood at his jaw. “Make yourselves at home. I’ll be out soon.” 

“Thanks,” Jim said, and Steve clapped him on the shoulder before leaving the room. Jim turned to Bones, who was sitting on the couch, glaring at the tricorder.

Jim sauntered over and leaned over the back of the couch, plucking the tricorder from Bones’s fingers. He expected a readout of Steve Rogers’s super soldier DNA, but instead, there was an image of an abused breastbone, ridged from a badly healed break, with a gaping hole directly above the heart. “What is this?”

“Confidential,” Bones said, but without his usual vitriol about Jim butting in on patient care. Jim checked the name attached to the readouts, and was shocked to see this sternum belonged to the supposedly indomitable Tony Stark. 

“You’re not his doctor,” Jim said, scrolling to the next image, a ripped and torn pericardial sac. “Why hasn’t this healed?”

“Can’t. Look,” Bones said, taking the tricorder and changing the display to show nonorganic substances — and Jim’s stomach reeled at the sight of metal and plastic filling in the holes surrounding Stark’s heart. “He’s only alive because of this.” Bones flipped back to the previous image, showing Jim one layer at a time: the light shining from Stark’s chest, below that, a metal tube and a mass of wires, and finally, an electromagnet. 

“I can’t believe he let you examine him,” Jim said, and then wondered, “Unless you, last night — “

Bones snorted. “No. The physicist we met yesterday scanned him.” He pursed his lips and put the tricorder facedown on the couch next to him. “I’m not straight and I don’t examine people in the bedroom, Jim. Anything else you want to know about my sex life while we’re on the topic?”

“Of course,” Jim said, almost without thinking, putting on a salacious grin and stepping around the couch to drop next to Bones. “Tell me about it. You’re always so...” he mimed zipping his mouth, “reserved.” 

“You don’t stop telling your fish stories long enough to let me get a word in edgewise. And besides, you slept with the girl from Eroticon Six. Nothing I say can compare.” 

Jim paused, a vision of that perfect third breast blurring his thoughts for a moment. “But you don’t say anything. I only knew you were dating Nancy because she started showing up at the dorm room.” 

“I can’t help it; I’m a gentleman,” Bones said, glaring at Jim. “My momma always said not to kiss and tell.” 

“I’m your best friend, Bones, surely you can make an exception,” Jim said. 

Bones looked at the ceiling, and Jim put a hand on his shoulder to encourage him. Bones huffed, and said, sharply, “Fine, Jim, I’ve engaged in sexual congress with six men, eight women. Nine women, actually. Are you happy now?” 

Jim slid his hand down Bones’s arm to loosely grasp his hand and pull it closer. “No.” 

“No? What do you want?” Bones still wasn’t looking at Jim, but his cheeks were flushed. 

“I want to know why we’ve never done this,” Jim said, bringing Bones’s hand to his mouth and kissing the thumb. Bones’s breath caught, and he looked at Jim from the corner of his eye. 

“You never wanted to,” Bones said, low.

“I certainly did,” Jim said, turning Bones’s hand over to kiss the palm.

“Stop,” Bones said, pulling his hand back. “I left out the part where I take this seriously.” 

“Oh, really, you think of Tony Stark seriously,” Jim said, his empty hand closing into a fist. The sympathy he’d been feeling toward Stark was quickly overwhelmed in flood of green.

“Not sex,” Bones said. “You.” 

“Oh,” Jim said, taken aback at the utter rejection.

“Yeah, right, ‘oh.’” Bones picked up the tricorder and stood, and Jim could only look at his hand, fisted on his knee, while Bones disappeared behind the couch. 

And then he realized. “Wait,” Jim said, twisting off the couch to follow Bones.

Bones stopped, a few feet from the elevator. “What?”

Jim held up a hand. “I misunderstood.” 

“What do you mean, you misunderstood,” Bones said, hands tightening on the tricorder.

“You take _me_ seriously,” Jim said.

Bones tilted his head. “That’s what I said.” 

“What’s that?” Steve asked, coming around the corner, hair slick from the shower. 

“We’re discussing our options,” Jim said, smiling at Bones. 

Steve nodded. “Tony’ll get you home.” 

“Soon, yes,” Jim said. Especially with the reasoning software in full use. 

The elevator chimed. “ _The pizza is here, Captain,_ ” the computer said. 

“Sure,” Steve said. “Let ‘em in.”

The door opened and a man carrying three boxes stepped in, looking around nervously. “I got a call saying Mr. Stark needed these?”

“Yeah, thanks for bringing them up,” Steve said, pulling out his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, um, sir,” the man said. “Sorry, I just realized — you’re Captain America.” 

“Yes,” Steve said, grinning at the man, “How much do I owe you for my pizza?”

“Yeah, I mean, no, these are just leftovers from a party in accounting. I was going to take them home, but a British guy called and said Mr. Stark needed me to bring them here. The guy gave me clearance for the penthouse elevator and everything.”

“JARVIS?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” the man said, relieved.

“Interesting,” Steve said. “Well, at least let me give you a tip for bringing them all the way up here.”

“No, uh, maybe, your autograph?” The man asked, tipping the boxes he was holding to pull a pen from his suit.

“Sure,” Steve said, taking the boxes with one hand and the pen with the other.”What’s your name?” 

“Jack Bolles,” the man said, unfolding a piece of paper from his pocket to spread it on top of the boxes. 

“Alright, Jack,” Steve said, signing the paper. 

The door opened and Stark walked in, looking the man from downstairs over. “Wow, the delivery boy uniform is really formal these days.”

“Uh, Mr. Stark — “ the man said, but Steve interrupted. “This is Jack Bolles from your accounting department.”

Stark’s eyebrows climbed to his forehead. “Are you telling me I pay you so little you had to get a second job? Fuck, I have to go to more budget meetings. Tell you what, you work in accounting, give yourself a raise and stop this pizza shit, it’s making me look bad.” 

“No, no, sir, JARVIS asked me to bring this up from the party in accounting — we finished the budget review and it looks great, by the way, sir, you’re going to be thrilled — “

“Can’t wait to see it at the next budget meeting, thanks for bringing the pizza, JARVIS, you and I need to have words, this pizza isn’t even from Joe’s.” Stark herded Bolles into the elevator, and Steve shoved the autograph at him as the elevator doors closed.

Stark took the pizza boxes from Steve, opening the lid and pulling a face. “JARVIS, what is this? _Leftover_ pizza? From _accounting_?” 

“ _It was the quickest available option, sir_ ,” the computer said.

“Since when is ‘quickest’ the only determining factor?” Stark asked, and Jim wondered if the computer would tell Stark the exact time, but JARVIS was silent.

Steve laid a hand on Stark’s arm. “Let’s just eat.” 

Stark glared at Steve for a moment, and then said, “Fine. JARVIS, turn on _Star Wars_.”

“Yes, sir,” the computer said, promptly, and fanfare burst from the corners of the room as the viewscreen across from the couch presented the text, “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away”

“Oh, _this_ ,” Bones said, rolling his eyes and sitting on the couch. 

“Yes, _this_ ,” Jim said, following Steve’s lead and grabbing pieces of pizza for Bones and himself, sitting close to Bones, his free arm on the back of the couch behind Bones. “Just like study parties in the good old days.” 

“There was nothing studious about them,” Bones said, then shushed Jim. “Be quiet, the robot’s the best part.” 

They watched and ate in rapt silence, Steve devouring a pizza and a half on his own, and Stark occasionally scribbling notes on his padd. 

Jim noticed Bones looking at him a few times, just out of the corner of his eye, and Jim took the opportunity each time to tighten his arm around Bones's shoulders. 

The credits rolled. "God, I've loved that movie since I was a kid," Stark said, hopping up and stretching. Steve and Bones both watched him intently, eyes on the sliver of skin appearing between shirt and low slung jeans. "I still want a lightsaber." 

"Then, why haven't you made one?" Steve asked.

"They're physically impossible," Stark said. "But I console myself with the idea it's all phallic imagery, and I certainly have that kind of lightsaber. Know how to handle it, too," he said, winking at Bones.

"Only your own?" Jim asked, smiling politely.

"Even better at handling others," Stark said. "And I don't know if you've noticed or not, but I'm very good with my mouth."

"I don't know if keeping it in constant motion is 'good,'" Jim said.

"Wait, stop. Are you maligning my blowjob skills?" Stark asked.

Steve turned red, and Jim smiled. "Insecure?"

"Not at all. In my experience, it's the person making the accusation who's insecure."

"Oh, no," Jim said, "not at all. I'm fairly certain I have the edge in experience and technique." 

"That's enough. Just measure your dicks already," Bones said.

Stark looked Jim over, aiming a pointed stare at Jim's groin. "That would be fun, but it doesn't answer the question." 

"Jesus," Bones said, putting a hand to his forehead.

"No, hear me out. There’s really only one way to settle this like gentlemen,” Stark said, grinning.

"What’s that?” Jim asked.

“Hear me out: blowjobs."

"What, me give you a blowjob? I don't think so." 

"No, not to each other. We'd obviously skew the data toward ourselves."

"Then you mean..." Jim said, raising his eyebrows, and looking at Bones.

"I think you catch my drift."

“What?" Steve said, sitting forward. 

"Yup, blowjobs and you're going to judge them. What's the criteria of a good blowjob, let's make a chart. Wetness. Depth. Endurance. Enthusiasm. Foreplay? Can there be foreplay?"

"Don't you think Steve and I would skew the data?" Bones asked. "Favoritism?" 

"Blindfolds," Jim said, snapping his fingers.

"Oh, I like the way you think," Stark said, pointing at Jim, and then turning to Steve. "See, this is bringing me and Kirk together, just like you wanted."

Steve's jaw ticked. "Not what I meant." 

“What do you say, Bones, you’re in, right?” Jim asked, jostling Bones’s shoulder.

Bones rubbed his forehead for a moment, took a deep breath, and then said, “Fine. God help me.” 

“Steve?” Jim asked, reaching over to tap his knee. 

Steve looked at him flatly. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, Steve, it’ll be fun. It’s for science,” Stark said, holding his hands out in front of him. 

“Oh, for science. Get Bruce,” Steve said.

Stark walked over to Steve, crouching in front of him to look into his eyes. He bit his lip, and then lowered himself onto his knees. He said, “Steve.” 

Steve swallowed, licked his lips, and looked away from Stark, glancing at Jim and blushing, until Stark put his palm over Steve’s knee. Steve met his eyes again and took a deep breath. “I guess it won’t hurt anything.” 

“Of course not. Not unless Jim’s really bad at this,” Stark said, posture relaxing, and he fiddled with the inseam of Steve’s pant leg. “But Bones is a doctor, he’ll patch you up.” 

“I promise you, it won’t hurt anything,” Jim said, putting his hand on Steve’s leg, worried Steve would shy away again, but from the way Steve was smiling at Stark, his correction was unnecessary. 

“So,” Stark said. “Judging rubric — “

Steve shook his head. “No. Leonard and I make the rules.” 

“OK,” Stark said, quickly, sitting back on his heels. “Fine by me.”

“I’ll be in my room, Leonard will be in my guest room. Flip a coin. Heads, Jim goes to the guest room and Tony comes to mine. Tails is the opposite. After we’re done, go to the other room. We’ll tell JARVIS which was better and he’ll release the results to you. Sound good?” Steve said, looking at Bones.

“If you figure in a refractory period, sure,” Bones said.

Steve furrowed his brow, and then said, “Right. How long do you need?” 

Bones shrugged. “An hour, maybe.”

“Huh,” Steve said. “We can take a break for dinner.” 

“Oh, my god, when they called you a super soldier, they weren’t kidding,” Stark said, and Steve shrugged, smiling a little. 

“Up. Let’s go,” Steve said, standing and pulling Stark with him. 

Bones put his hand on Jim’s knee, squeezing as he stood up. “Better make this good.”

“Bones,” Jim said. “Are you sure?”

“It’s fine,” Bones said, tugging at his shirt.

“You don’t need to be a martyr,” Jim said. 

“Yes, Jim, being pleasured by two attractive men is a great sacrifice. I don’t know if I’ll survive,” Bones said. 

“Alright,” Jim said, shrugging. 

“Where do you want me?” Bones asked Steve. 

“This way,” Steve said, leading him to the hallway. 

“Wait,” Stark said, digging around in his pockets, frowning. “I don’t have a coin.”

“Here,” Steve said, taking one from his pocket and tossing it to Stark. “You owe me a quarter.”

“Thanks.” Stark waited for the men to go down the hallway before flipping the coin and catching it on the back of his hand. “Want to make this interesting?” 

“What were you thinking?” Jim asked, and walked over. Stark lifted his hand and revealed the coin. “Tails.”

“Tails,” Stark agreed. “I win, you fix JARVIS.”

“Alright,” Jim said. “And if I win, you let me drive your ‘Vette.”

Stark paused, bit his lip, and said, “Deal.”

“You can forfeit now, if you’d like,” Jim said. 

“I don’t think so,” Stark said, and put the quarter in his pocket. “Let’s go.”

They walked down the hallway toward two open doors. Jim glanced in the first, and stopped short at the sight of Bones sitting on the edge of the bed, barefoot and blindfolded with a blue tie. And Jim realized he hadn’t ever considered it seriously — he’d never thought about Bones’s gruff voice and gentle hands and generous mouth — and he wished, more than anything, the damn coin had come up heads.

Stark took Jim’s elbow and pulled him down the hallway. “Second thoughts?”

Jim looked Stark in the eyes. “You?”

“Don’t believe in ‘em,” Stark said, and pushed Jim toward the other door. 

Steve’s room was dark after Jim closed the door, and Jim had to stop himself from asking if he could turn on the lights. Instead, he toed off his shoes and walked over to the bed. Steve was lying in the middle, fully dressed, his hands under his head, and a red tie over his eyes. He said, “I can hear you breathing. Come on.”

Jim hesitated, and, after a moment, Steve reached down and opened the button of his pants. 

Jim’s mouth watered at the sight, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. Steve moved his hand away, resting it on his chest. Jim was slightly at a loss — he wanted to make a joke or tell Steve how gorgeous he was — but instead, he leaned down and nuzzled at the button Steve had opened.

Steve’s breath caught, and Jim smiled, relieved. He rested one hand on Steve’s abdomen, feeling it quiver beneath him, and slowly opened the zipper with the other. He followed the line down, mouthing at the cotton y-fronts until he reached the base of the zipper. Steve’s cock was filling under Jim’s mouth, and Jim’s own dick was already begging to be put into play. Jim sat up, adjusted himself, and then tucked his fingers into the waistband of Steve’s underwear. Steve lifted his hips, and in one swift tug, Jim had him naked from the waist down. 

Steve’s cock was as perfectly formed as the rest of him, broad and long. Jim moaned, unable to help himself, and Steve’s face turned almost as red as his blindfold. Again, Jim had to bite back praise, choosing instead to busy his mouth in exploration of Steve’s inner thighs, licking at his balls, up to caress the crown of his dick, and then swallow it down. Steve groaned, and Jim gripped his thighs to steady him. It was easy going from there — a little faster, a little slower, focusing on the head until Steve was shaking, hands knotted in the sheets. 

Jim moved his hand to the base of Steve’s cock and pumped in time with the bobbing of his head. Steve arched from the bed, the pressure of Jim’s hand on his thigh inconsequential against the force of Steve’s orgasm. Jim swallowed, and Steve slid his fingers over Jim’s cheek, down to where Jim’s lips met Steve’s cock. Jim kissed his fingers, and Steve said, “Thanks,” frowning slightly.

Jim nodded against Steve’s hand and slid off the bed. Steve pulled his hands back up, under his head, breath already steady. If it weren’t for his nudity from the waist down, it would’ve looked like nothing had happened. Jim wanted to climb back up, kiss the man senseless, do it over again until Steve was wrecked. Instead, Jim went out the door, closed it behind him, and leaned against the wall. He stood, hands fisted, ignoring his erection, until Stark walked out of Bones’s room, wide eyed and hair on its end. Stark wiped the back of his mouth with his hand, and then scratched at his goatee.

The goatee, Jim realized, the one caress he’d gotten from Steve suddenly empty. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. “He’s ready for you.” 

Stark looked at Steve’s door, and said, “We have an hour, and I have stuff to do.”

“You’re a coward,” Jim said. 

Stark’s eyes narrowed. “And you’re an idiot.” 

“I’m not the man turning down Captain America,” Jim said. 

“But I am the guy who’s had Bones twice, and doesn’t that just rot your gut,” Stark said, easily. 

It did; it twisted and burned until Jim snarled, “What’s so good about you, anyway?”

“Come over here and find out,” Stark said, curling his lips, and Jim rushed him. Stark side-stepped and shoved Jim toward the hallway entrance, sending him stumbling out into the living room. He managed to grab Stark’s wrist and pull him down to the floor. Two moves to pin, he thought, wrapping his legs around Stark’s waist, but Stark twisted impossibly and pushed himself on top of Jim, face to face, the metal of his heart digging into Jim’s chest. “You letting me top?” Stark asked. 

“Never,” Jim said, and shoved so he could roll onto Stark and kiss him, teeth against teeth. Stark bucked beneath him, pushing his thigh between Jim’s and moaning. 

“ _Jim_ ,” Bones said from the hallway entrance, and Jim stilled, embarrassed. Stark took advantage of his hesitance to roll them over again, sitting on top of Jim’s hips and attacking his neck, sucking and biting until Jim groaned, unable to keep from grinding against Stark’s leg.

“Let them work it out,” Steve said, and Stark froze.

“Um, Steve,” he said, but Steve was already headed for the elevator, Bones on his heels.

“I think those were our dates,” Jim said, lightheaded.

“We have a free hour,” Stark said, grinning. “I mean, what did they expect us to do, sit around with blue balls, waiting to suck their cocks?”

“Egotistical bastards,” Jim said, grabbing Stark’s shirt front and pulling him down for another kiss. The kiss was sloppy and hard, neither willing to sacrifice their expertise by following; the result an amalgamation of rhythms and techniques that split Stark’s lip in its force, flooding their mouths with the bitter taste of blood. 

Stark sat up and licked at it, and then shrugged out of his shirt, revealing the mess Bones had been fascinated by earlier. Jim sat up to strip off his own shirt and displace Stark, but instead of pushing on top again, he laid on his side. 

“Oh, look,” Stark said, raising his eyebrows and going to work on the fly of Jim’s pants. “Compromise.”

“Necessary for diplomacy,” Jim said, and Stark laughed, pulling down Jim’s pants and underwear only far enough to free his cock. Jim quickly reciprocated, and grinned when he gained a whimper from wrapping his hand around Stark’s cock.

Stark settled onto the floor next to Jim, flinging a leg over Jim’s thighs, hooking him into place so Stark could grind into him, _finally_ direct pressure against Jim’s cock. Jim grabbed the back of Stark’s head to kiss him again, willing him to open up under his mouth, but Stark growled and retaliated by taking both of their cocks in hand. Jim gasped, breaking the kiss but not letting Stark retreat. They were breathing into each other’s mouths, hot, wet, almost suffocating.

“I wanna fuck you,” Stark said, dark eyes black with want, and Jim said, “Not a chance.” 

“I know,” Stark said, shaking as he sped up his hand on their cocks. “But I had to try.” 

“Would you let me?” Jim asked, sliding his hand down Stark’s side to his ass.

“I’d let you think you were,” Stark said, moving somehow closer. “I’d ride you until you broke and leave you wondering why you’re the one limping the next morning.” 

“Fuck,” Jim said, closing his eyes against the vision of Stark sliding above him, easy grace and constant motion.

“Yeah,” Stark said, “It’s good.” 

Jim kissed him again, both of them too far gone for more than swipes of teeth against tongue. He joined his hand with Stark’s, pushing for faster, for tighter, for fingers intertwined, and for Stark’s breath to come in little hitches.

“Come on, Stark,” Jim said, twisting their hands, but the maneuver backfired when Stark twisted back and then they were coming, pulsing together over their hands.

“Shit,” Stark said, after a moment. “Of course, the first time in my life I have a simultaneous orgasm, it’s with you.” 

Jim laughed and rolled onto his back. “Can’t win for losing.” 

“Oh, I think that was a win. Win-win, to make it clear,” Stark said, standing and offering Jim his clean hand. 

“Thanks,” Jim said, taking Stark’s hand and standing. 

“The bathroom’s this way,” Stark said, leading Jim down the hallway. “Oh, JARVIS, if you would ever so kindly tell Cap we’ve resolved our differences without killing each other, I’d appreciate it.” 

“ _He’ll be overjoyed, sir,_ ” JARVIS said. They washed up, Stark chattering with his computer, and it didn’t escape Jim that they hadn’t resolved their differences as much as put them aside. 

As soon as JARVIS finished running Jim’s script; as soon as Jim heard Spock’s voice on the comm, he’d fix Stark’s computer. 

Jim made his way back to Steve’s couch, picking up the padd he’d left there hours before. JARVIS had sent Jim’s message across over three hundred thousand universes and still hadn’t received a reply. 

Stark followed him out after a few minutes, talking to himself and sitting in front of Steve’s viewscreen to draw in the air in front of it. Jim found himself watching, and slowly becoming more impressed. “You should enlist,” Jim said, remembering too late where and when he was.

“I have problems with authority,” Stark said, absently. “I’d end up as Barkley.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, right, wrong series. Sorry.”

“ _Sir_ ,” JARVIS said, “ _There has been a ransom demand for the kidnapped child._ ” 

“Yeah, well, give it to them,” Stark said, standing up and turning to wave at Jim. “I gotta go to my lab. If Steve and Bones ever show, tell ‘em — “

“ _Doctor Doom sent the family a message. He will exchange the child for you, sans armor._ ”

“Oh,” Stark said. He bit his lip for a moment, and then went to the elevator. 

"Doctor Doom," Jim said, following. "He doesn't sound pleasant."

"Not really, no," Stark said. "JARVIS, assemble the Avengers. We gotta get her home." He started running as soon as the elevator doors opened at the penthouse, arms outstretched, and the armor encased him before he reached the base of the stairs. “See ya,” he said, saluting Jim, and took off with a skip, up and out of the tower before Jim could do more than wave.

“Iron Man,” Steve yelled, running down the stairs, but looking at the glass ceiling. “Wait for backup.” 

“I don’t think he heard,” Bones said, leaning against the third floor railing. 

“Stay here,” Steve said, pushing Jim out of the elevator, and slapping a button inside. “You’ll be safe.” 

Jim raised his eyebrows, but the doors closed before he could reply. He shrugged and looked up at Bones. “I’ll be safe. This must be your dream come true.”

Bones snorted. “Yes, Jim, I’m thrilled. Come on up, Steve made me dinner.” He disappeared into the kitchen, and Jim trotted up the stairs. 

Jim ate dinner while Bones picked up and put down a padd, looking furious. He finally stood up, as Jim was about to polish off his mashed potatoes, and said, “I should have gone with them. They need a doctor.”

“I’m sure they know what they’re doing,” Jim said, although he was plenty annoyed with being left behind himself. 

“Right, that’s why Rogers came back with a gaping head wound today. ‘They know what they’re doing.’ It’s for good reason we always send a medic on away teams.” Bones picked up his tricorder and worried at it.

“Is this what you’re like when I leave you on the ship?” Jim asked.

“Of course not!” Bones said. “I hate away missions and spend every minute I’m not on one thanking my lucky stars. It’s just that Stark needs medical supervision. Imagine if his power source went out. He’d be dead in minutes.”

“Banner seems to know about medicine,” Jim said.

Bones glowered at him. “Have you seen what Banner turns into out there?” He picked up his padd, stabbed at it a few times, and then shoved it at Jim. 

Jim hummed in surprise. “A green giant.” 

“That’s right, a green giant. And its IQ is as low as Banner’s is high. Tell me how much medical assistance he can render with those huge hands.” 

“What does Natasha do?” Jim asked. 

“Puts on a catsuit and kills people with knives,” Bones said. 

Jim nodded. “I can’t say I’m surprised.” 

Bones started pacing. “I’ve got to find something to do here. I can’t sit around while these people dress up and play superhero.” 

“I could still owe you a blowjob,” Jim said, winking.

Bones stopped in his tracks, flushing. “I think that little science experiment is off.”

“Why’s that?” Jim asked.

“For one thing, I knew it was Stark. For another, I hope the two of you worked it out of your systems without needing our input.” 

“But I want to know who you’d chose,” Jim said, leaning forward to catch Bones’s eyes.

“Jim,” Bones said, “I work on a goddamned spaceship, whizzing around the universe, and it’s not because I like the view.”

“I don’t see how that answers my question,” Jim said. 

“You goddamn idiot,” Bones snapped, taking four long strides across the kitchen floor, wrapping his hand around the back of Jim’s neck and kissing Jim square on the mouth. Jim dropped his fork and leaned up into it, wrapping his arm around Bones’s waist to pull himself closer.

“As entertaining as this has been, I’m afraid I have to interrupt. It’s urgent.” 

Jim whipped off the stool and turned around, grabbing his fork again for use as a weapon. Bones leapt back and pulled his hypospray from his pocket. “Who are you?” Jim asked.

The middle-aged, slightly balding man in an impeccable suit smiled politely and held out his hand. “Agent Phil Coulson. I need you to come with me.”

“Captain Rogers said to stay here,” Jim said. “Why should we trust you?” 

“The Avengers need your help. Doc, you have your equipment?”

Bones pulled the strap of his tricorder around his neck and nodded. “Everything but my phaser.”

Coulson nodded, and pulled their phasers the inside of his suit and tossed one to Bones and one to Jim. “I’d appreciate it if these stayed on stun.”

“Wait,” Jim said, tucking his phaser into his waistband. “JARVIS, can you identify this man?”

No response.

“JARVIS, this is priority alpha: give me everything you know about this man.” 

“JARVIS is down,” Coulson said. “Has been for the last twenty minutes. That means Iron Man’s capabilities are significantly limited and you are wasting the little time he has left.” 

“What do you mean, time he has left?” Bones asked.

Coulson’s polite smile became fractionally wider. “Come, now, or I will take your medical equipment and hope to find someone else who can use it.” 

“Are you threatening us?” Jim asked, grip tightening on his fork. 

“Not yet,” Coulson said. “Let’s walk. I can explain while we’re in the air.” 

He led them up to Stark’s landing pad, where a helicopter hovered, dangling three lines onto the roof, and picked a harness up from the ground. He put it on himself, demonstrating quickly how to fasten and tighten it, and then held one up to Bones.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Bones shouted over the roar of the copter. 

Coulson shook his head, and held it up like a coat. Bones gave Jim a look, but shrugged into the harness. Jim picked up the other one and fastened it. Coulson tugged on them, and then hooked them onto the lines. “Operation Boldly a go,” he said, loudly, and then they were being reeled into the helicopter.

Bones was completely white even after the copter doors closed and they’d been strapped into the seats, but Jim was ready for action. “What’s going on?” he shouted, and Coulson handed them both headsets.

“The kidnapping Doctor McCoy witnessed was of Roza Kovatz, daughter of Hungarian diplomat Julianna Kovatz,” Coulson said, holding up a small viewscreen with a picture of the girl, and then switched it to a picture of a man with a metal face. “She was kidnapped by Victor von Doom, international supervillain and dictator of the neighboring nation Latveria, to put pressure on her mother to lift shipping and trade embargos.

“Since Iron Man showed interest in the kidnapping — showed up at the scene, offered to pay the ransom — von Doom decided to use the opportunity to his full advantage and told Stark, him for the girl. And Iron Man took the bait without waiting for backup.” 

A shaky video appeared on the screen — a young man jumping on a wheeled board. He looked up and pointed, “Is that Iron Man? Shit, that’s fucking Iron Man!” The camera took a nauseating pan up and back down to catch Stark landing in front of a large building. The armor dropped away from him and sped back into the sky. Stark waited for a moment, looking at the door, and then strolled in. 

“Goddamn jackass,” Bones said.

“Stark lost his SHIELD issued comm uplink when he left the armor, but he still had a cell phone with access to JARVIS,” Coulson said, turning the viewscreen toward himself. “The rest of the Avengers were able to infiltrate the warehouse within fifteen minutes. He showed them another video, taken from the same camera, of Banner’s giant crushing the door in and running inside. “Captain America, Hawkeye, and the Black Widow chose to use more subtlety in their entrance, as Doctor Doom has diplomatic immunity.” 

“Diplomatic immunity?” Jim asked. 

“Mr. Stark and Doctor Banner are only consultants and do not act on behalf of the U.S. government. However, all SHIELD personnel are government agents and may not attempt confront Doom without risking an international incident.”

Jim sat back. “But they’re all in there anyway. Why do you need us?”

“We’ve lost communication. Less than thirty seconds after the Avengers’ entrance, an electromagnetic pulse went off, discharging all electronics in the area.”

“Stark,” Bones said, horrified.

“He managed to charge his cell phone shortly after the blast to deliver the message, and I quote, ‘I’d love a tricorder right now.’ We are taking this to mean he is alive, in need of medical assistance, and he thinks you can help.” Coulson tilted his head. “And, with your medical and military background, and as you have no links to the United States government or any sort of identification — other than the fakes I found in your room, Doctor McCoy, you are aware that owning a false ID is a Class 1 offense, aren’t you? Anyway, I tend to agree with his appraisal.” 

“Excuse me?” Jim said.

“To be clear, I was threatening you,” Coulson said, and smiled. “Brace yourselves, we’re landing.”

The helicopter thumped when it landed, and Bones scrambled out and onto the street as quickly as he could. Jim shoved in front of Coulson to put a hand on Bones’s shoulder when they hit the ground. Bones took a deep breath and grimaced at him.

Coulson walked by them, thrusting an earpiece into Jim’s hand. “Here’s the plan. You will infiltrate, find out what is going on, and report back to me. There will be Doombots. Do not engage them, they will kill you. There will be minions. Again, do not engage. There will be a man in a metal suit and a green frock. Please, do not engage, I need you to stay alive until I know what’s going on. I want the girl out, I want my agents out, and Captain Rogers would never forgive me if I left Stark in there.” 

“We’re doing this?” Bones asked, looking at Jim.

“After he asked so nicely? Of course,” Jim answered, tucking his earpiece into his ear. Bones followed suit. 

“Take these in, too,” Coulson said, handing Jim five more earpieces. “In case you can get up close to any of my people.” 

“Alright,” Jim said, appraising the building. A broken window at the basement level looked promising. “Anything else?”

Coulson held out his hand. “Yeah. I’m a big fan, looking forward to seeing you — well, hearing you — in action.” 

Jim shook it and smiled. “My pleasure.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Bones said. “People need medical attention in there.” 

“Right,” Jim said, nodding to Coulson and then turning toward the building. “Let’s go.” 

They edged along the building until they reached the broken window. Jim started to tug off his shirt to cover the sharp edges, but Bones put a hand on his arm and shook his head. He reached over the glass to unlock the window and pull it open. “Why do you always try to solve everything with nudity,” he whispered.

Jim shrugged. “Usually works.” He stuck his head in for a look around. It was a small room, full of boxes and shelving. “Empty,” he said, and hopped in. Bones followed. The room was unlit. “No power,” Jim said. 

“ _That’s fine. I have a layout for you_ ,” Coulson buzzed in Jim’s ear, and Bones jumped.

“Alright, where do we go?” Jim asked.

“ _There’s a hallway outside. Turn right to get to the stairs._ ”

Jim put his ear to the door, and Bones stood behind him, phaser in hand. Jim heard someone walking, and nodded to Bones. He waited until they were at the door, and then swung it open as hard as he could, knocking them down, and Bones ran out and stunned the person. Jim listened for someone else, as Bones checked the unconscious man’s vitals.

“He’ll be fine, out for a at least an hour,” Bones said.

“ _I said, do not engage,_ ” Coulson said.

“Sorry,” Jim said, and grinned at Bones. Bones shrugged and helped Jim carry the man back to the storage room. Jim led the way to the stairwell and up the stairs, phaser at the ready, although it was nearly impossible to see anything. Bones caught him by the hand and pointed to a door he’d missed. “Coulson, how far up should we go?”

“ _Only one flight. Everyone was on the ground floor last I heard, let’s look there._ ”

“Alright,” Bones said, and edged open the door. “Here’s a big room, a few windows, high ceiling. Lots of shelving.”

“ _Main distribution area. Sounds like the Hawk’s kind of place. Stay low, but keep your eyes on the ceiling. Barton’ll be taking out everything that moves, you want him to recognize you...assuming you haven’t pissed him off. You didn’t piss him off, did you?_ ”

“I did punch him yesterday,” Bones said. “But we were sparring.”

Coulson sighed. “ _Just stay low._ ”

Bones creeped through the door. Jim was about to follow when someone pressed a knife to his throat and a hand over his mouth. 

“You’re dead and no one’s the wiser,” Natasha said.

“I have something for you,” Jim said, reaching into his pocket for an earpiece.

“Don’t,” Natasha said, grabbing his hand and twisting him around until he was on his knees in front of her, knife still at his throat.

“It’s from Coulson,” Jim said, and she snatched the earpiece from his ear and stuck it in her own.

“Coulson,” she said, staring at Jim. “What is this?” 

Jim waited while she listened, leaning back as far as the leverage on his arm would allow. “So, don’t kill him,” she said, and grimaced at the answer Coulson gave her. She released his arm and let him stand, holding it. 

Jim took a new earpiece out of his pocket and stuffed it in his ear. “Alright, Bones?”

“ _There are a lot of robots in here,_ ” Bones said, whispering through the commlink.

Natasha smiled. “They’re vulnerable at the throat. Just like you.” 

Jim raised his eyebrows. “Oh. Good.” 

“ _Black Widow, you are covert, you are not to engage Doombots,_ ” Coulson said.

“I already took three upstairs,” Natasha said, shrugging. 

“ _For Christ’s sake,_ ” Coulson said. 

Jim pointed to the door. “After you.” 

Natasha studied him, and then slid through the door. Jim followed, and they sneaked down the row of shelving until they reached Bones, who pointed to the other end of the room. Jim counted twenty Doombots gathered around a door. “What’s happening there?” he asked, low. 

One of the Doombots on the outer edge crashed to the ground, and Natasha smiled. “Hawkeye. Give me a comm.” 

Jim handed her one, and she climbed to the top of the shelving and disappeared.

“I think they’re waiting for reinforcements,” Jim said. “We should go before they get here.”

“Alright,” Bones said, and turned around. 

“No, I mean, get these ones,” Jim said.

“ _Cap and Banner are trapped in there,_ ” came Barton’s voice. 

“ _Banner?_ ” asked Coulson.

“ _Don’t ask me, sir,_ ” Barton said. “ _I don’t know why he decided to get small in the middle of a fight._ ”

“These are robots, right?” Jim asked, changing his phaser to kill. 

“Non-sentient, non-living?” Bones asked.

“ _Scrap metal — just add arrows,_ ” Barton said, and another Doombot collapsed. 

“Alright,” Jim said, and took aim at the nearest one and disintegrated it.

“ _Whoa,_ ” Barton said. “ _I gotta get me one of those._ ” 

“ _Fine, destroy the Doombots. But cut the chatter and keep under cover,_ ” Coulson said. 

Bones shot two in succession, and the Doombots took notice, five of them breaking off and coming toward where they were hiding. Jim was able to get another shot in before the Doombots fired, destroying the shelving in front of them. A girder landed on Bones’s thigh, and Jim helped him push it off before dragging him to his feet. He fired his phaser at some movement through the smoke, and then pulled Bones’s arm over his shoulder.

Jim dragged him down the row of shelving and ducked through a walkway, hoping to lose the robots in the maze of shelving, but the bots crashed through with ease. 

Something flew over them, and Hawkeye said, “ _I’ll draw their fire. Get to Cap._ ” 

“Got it,” Jim said. They ran as fast as they could until they were in sight of the door again. Only seven Doombots remained at their post, and Jim blasted one just as Natasha landed on another’s shoulders and twisted, sending its head clattering to the floor. 

“Let go so I can shoot,” Bones said, and Jim dropped his arm. Bones crashed against the girder on his other side, and Jim grimaced apologetically as he shot another. Bones caught his balance and shot, missing. The bots seemed more concerned with Natasha, who had jammed a knife under the armor of one to rip out the circuitry beneath, and they circled her. 

Two of the Doombots went down, arrows sprouting from their heads, and Natasha dodged a blast from one of the bots and tumbled backward to land on her feet. Jim shot one of the remaining bots, and Bones hit the other one. Natasha raised an eyebrow at them and turned to the door.

Jim leaned down to help Bones up. Bones hopped up more enthusiastically than Jim was expecting and fell into him. They stood for a moment, pressed together from knees to shoulders, arms wrapped around each other, and Bones raised an eyebrow, slowly, salaciously, at Jim.

They both jumped when Barton dropped from the shelving above them. “‘Bots coming in from behind.”

“Let’s go,” Natasha said.

Jim winked at Bones and they rearranged in a shuffle to walk to the door.

“It’s locked,” Barton said, trying the handle. 

“Let me,” Natasha said, shoving him out of the way with her hip. The result was words Jim had only ever heard from Chekov when the universal translator was off. 

“You said Steve’s in there, right?” Jim asked, as he and Bones walked forward, or Jim dragged Bones while Bones hopped on one leg.

“Yeah,” Barton said.

“Why don’t you try knocking?” Jim said, reaching around Natasha to rap on the door. “Steve, it’s Jim.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Steve shouted over the sound of things scraping across the floor. “This is not a place for civilians.” 

“I was recruited,” Jim said. “Coulson brought Bones and me in at Stark’s request.” 

Steve slammed the door open, shield at the ready. “Where is he?”

“Stark?” Natasha answered. “Upstairs. With Doom and the girl. He needs backup, big backup, a distraction and someone who can carry him out. Where’s the Hulk?”

“Carry him — “ Steve said, like he’d been punched in the gut. He swallowed, looked at the floor, and then back up at Natasha. “The Hulk is down; Banner was hit by a Doombot. He’s not well. I don’t think he should be moved without a stretcher.” He moved out of the doorway so Jim and Bones could squeeze through it. 

Banner was naked and flat on the ground, a small crank lantern on his far side. Bones hopped faster, pushing away from Jim to sit at Banner’s side and start the tricorder. “Well, Dr. Banner, you seem to have irradiated yourself against doctor’s orders.” Banner laughed, turning his face toward Bones and illuminating the gash running from his temple to his shoulder. Jim swallowed; it didn't look good.

“I didn’t think we’d have anything else today,” Banner said, and Jim could see fresh blood well up from the seam. “We already fought and I thought I could rest, I could...put him away. Just tonight. But he came out anyway, when I asked. I didn’t think — he’s never gone away before he was done before. I didn’t think.” 

Bones pressed a hypospray against Banner’s neck and said, “No, you didn’t, you lunatic, I don’t know what passes for education in this country but I can’t say I like it. Now hold still; Captain Rogers did a very good job of putting pressure on your wound and I don’t want it open again.” Jim recognized the commentary; except when Jim received it, Bones always had a hand on him, on his shoulder or in his hair. 

Jim reached over and squeezed Bones’s shoulder, quickly, and Bones looked up, tired and pained, and put a hand over Jim’s. “It looks bad, but it’s just a scratch. He’ll be right as rain.”

“What about you?” Jim asked.

“Don’t worry about me, my leg’s not broken,” Bones said. “Go find Tony.” 

“You’re staying here,” Steve said, and Jim stood up, looking Captain America eye-to-eye. 

“You need me,” Jim said. “A distraction and someone to carry Stark.” 

“I can carry Iron Man. The three of us can handle it,” Steve said, and then snapped, holding out his hand. “If those comms are working, give one to me now.” 

Jim pulled one from his pocket and slapped it into Steve’s hand. “There’s no reason for me to stay behind.”

“There’s a damn good reason,” Steve said, settling the comm in his ear. “We’re a team. We eat as a team, we spar as a team, we fight as a team. The best you’ll do is slow us down. And I won’t let you do it when Tony’s life is on the line.”

Jim blinked, stepped back, and then held out the last communicator. “Here’s for Tony.” 

Steve took it and nodded to Barton and Natasha, who jogged out the door. “Thank you. Keep the docs safe.” Steve hefted his shield and ran, barking orders. 

Jim shut the door behind him and tried to brace it with the shelving Steve had used before, but he couldn’t even budge it. Instead, he sat with his back against it, head up and eyes closed, focusing on the buzz of the regenerator and Bones’s litany of profanity and encouragement instead of Steve’s quick commands. 

“He’s good. Out from the pain medication.” Bones said, and Jim scrubbed his eyes.

“I’m glad,” Jim said. “Let’s get him out of here.”

“If we could beam him out, I’d be all for it,” Bones said, and Jim looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Don’t give me that. Medical emergencies are the time and place for a transporter.”

“And saving an hour to get to Deep Space Three sure wasn’t,” Jim said. 

Bones snorted, checking his own leg with the tricorder. “Like you could predict an interdimensional rift.” 

“I’m just saying, it’s my fault,” Jim said.

“I’m just saying, I respectfully disagree.”

“ _Turn off the comms if you need to chat,_ ” Coulson said, and Barton added, “ _Suck face on your own time._ ”

“ _Visual of Doom,_ ” Natasha said. “ _He’s doing magic, he has more ‘bots...I’ve been seen._ ”

“ _Goddamn it, Natasha, get out,_ ” Steve said. 

Jim tensed, hand pressed to his ear. 

“ _We have guests outside,_ ” Coulson said. “ _Excuse me. You shouldn’t go in there, it’s condemned...My name doesn’t matter, you can’t go in there. Do not touch me, I will shoot you._ ”

“ _What’s going on, Agent?_ ” Steve asked. No answer. “ _Agent Coulson, status._ ”

“ _Hey, Doomsie, do me a favor and turn to your right, you’ll have a great profile once I shave your nose down._ ” Barton said, and there was a crash Jim could hear through the ceiling. “ _I could use backup._ ”

“I’m coming,” Jim said, and looked at Bones. “I’ve got to go.” 

Bones nodded. “Good luck, Jim.” 

Jim whipped open the door and ran through the distribution room, the walkway littered with pieces of bots and collapsed shelving. The light from the windows wasn’t good enough for him to avoid slamming his toes into a box, and he yelled, forcing himself to keep running.

“ _Hawkeye’s down,_ ” Natasha said. “ _I’m going in._ ”

“ _No, Widow, stand down!_ ” Steve said.

Jim heard someone on the stairway below him — someone light on their feet — but he couldn’t take the time to deal with them. He went up, taking the stairs three at a time, ignoring the burn in his legs and the sound of footsteps slowly mounting the stairway behind him. Jim slammed through the door at the top of the stairs, into a Doombot. It caught him by his shoulders, and Jim twisted away, disintegrating it with his phaser.

Still no light except what came around boarded windows, and Jim risked the comm. “I’m on your level, how do I get to you?”

“ _You don’t,_ ” Steve said. “ _I told you to stay back._ ”

“I’m already here,” Jim said, catching the glow of another Doombot’s eyes down the hall. That seemed promising, and he waited until it caught sight of him before he shot it and rounded the corner it was guarding. A blur of red, white, and blue came at him, but was whisked away before he could even blink.

“So you are,” Steve said. 

“Where are they?” Jim asked. Steve pointed to a closed door, faint light coming from under the bottom. 

“Black Widow and Hawkeye went in through the air vents,” Steve said. “I’ll have to use the door.” He looked at Jim, sizing him up. 

“You still need your distraction. I’ll take the door,” Jim said, and walked over and opened it. It was dark but crowded with the glow of dozens of Doombot eyes and a purple gleam illuminating the far side of the room.

“Captain America. I’ve been expecting you,” said a man in a metal suit and a green frock, his back to Jim. Barton was tied and gagged on the floor behind him, two Doombots standing over him.

“Sorry to disappoint. I’m Captain James T. Kirk of the United Federation of Planets,” Jim said, striding in, glaring at the Doombots lining the room. 

“Who?” the man said, turning. Behind him was Stark, face battered and shirt ripped open, a purple line pulsing from his chest as he cradling the kidnapped girl in his arms, his hands over her ears. 

“James Tiberius Kirk. I’ve come to talk to Doctor Doom.” 

“And what would I have to say to you,” the man said, purple balls of energy bouncing on his fingers, like magic. Oh. Green Frock was Doom. Coulson probably could’ve made that more clear.

Jim stepped forward and laughed. “I didn’t say I wanted to listen to you. I said I wanted to talk. About a friend of mine, JARVIS,” he said, glancing at Stark. 

Stark looked at him, raising his eyebrows, and Jim held a hand up to his ear. Stark shifted his hand down to his side, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and nodding.

“James Kirk,” Doom said. “Where have I heard that name?“

“I have administrator privileges over JARVIS,” Jim said. “And I relinquish them.” 

“Whatever you offer doesn’t matter! I have the power to raze the face of Earth, thanks to Stark’s vulnerabilities — the child, his power source — his heart!” Doom laughed, orbs growing from his hands. 

Jim laughed back, adjusting the setting on his phaser and aiming it at Doom. “And I have the power to destroy _you_.”

“How dare you,” Doom said, raising his hands, walking toward Jim. “How dare you threaten Doom! United Federation of Planets, pah! There’s no such thing!” He flung an energy ball at Jim. Jim ducked, but it grazed his shoulder, burning through his shirt and skin. Jim grunted in pain as he brought up his phaser and fired. 

A purple shield flickered over Doom and he laughed. “Idiot! Every attack you make on me will only drain Stark’s power.” 

Jim fired on Doombots instead, hoping to give Steve the opportunity he needed. He managed to bring their attention to him, but it was for nothing when Steve burst through the door, flinging his shield at the nearest Doombot. Doom flung an energy ball into his face, and Steve stumbled back. His shield flew back toward him and he reached for it; missed it by a half inch, and was surrounded by dozens of Doombots. 

Another burst of purple energy blasted Jim’s arm and he dropped his phaser. “I have you,” Doom said, laughing, advancing toward Steve. “I have the Avengers on their knees.”

Stark stood, unsteadily, and picked up the girl. “Not on our knees,” he said, slumped against the wall. 

“You are conquered,” Doom said. “Petty fools, to think you could stand against me. And now you will be destroyed!”

“I do not suggest that course of action,” came a dry tone from a tall figure at the door, head covered with a ridiculous hat. The Doombots surrounding Steve turned. 

“Spock!” Jim said, grinning despite the situation. 

“Jim,” Spock said, and Scotty stepped in behind him. 

“Kill them all!” Doom screamed, lobbing energy toward Spock and hitting one of his own robots. Spock and Scotty took cover behind the door, at first their shots ineffectual until Jim yelled, “Phasers on kill!” 

Jim picked up his phaser and ran toward Stark, dodging Doombot fire. He was ten meters away when Doom noticed his proximity and threw a wave of energy at him, smashing him into the far wall. Jim fell to his knees, pain knocking his breath away. He forced himself up, blinking to clear his vision in time to see a ‘bot aiming at his head.

He threw himself to the ground and rolled away, catching his injured shoulder on the edge of Steve’s shield. He grabbed it and charged the bot, smashing the joints of its shoulder and bringing it down.

“Here!” Steve barked, and Jim threw the shield toward him before taking cover behind the bot he’d downed. He took a moment to examine the situation. Steve was surrounded by bots, dancing to avoid fire. Spock and Scotty still held the door, but the sheer number of bots would have them retreating soon. On the other end of the room, Doom ventured closer to Steve, giving Stark the chance to hand the girl to Natasha, who was hanging from a hole in the ceiling. 

Jim was more at ease with the girl out of danger, and he fired again at Doom, hoping to draw his fire away from Steve. Doom’s shield appeared again, thicker, and Doom laughed. “Why don’t you give up and die like the worms you are?”

“Rather not,” Stark said. Doom whirled around to face him, and Stark held out his arms. “JARVIS, buddy, now’d be a good time.” 

“ _Indeed, sir,_ ” came JARVIS’s voice from Stark’s pocket, and the building shook as the Iron Man armor came tearing through the wall to wrap around Stark, the purple glow disappearing from his chest as hazy sunlight filled the room. 

“Fire! Destroy them!” Doom shouted, his magic dwindling away from his fingers. Stark aimed a gauntlet at him, and Doom ran from the room, shrieking, “Kill them all!”

Jim grinned and took aim at the nearest Doombot, jumping when he was shoved. “Make room, flyboy,” Barton said, crouching next to him, arrow already loosed from the string. Iron Man and Captain America stood back to back, repulsors and shield taking down the inner ring of ‘bots as phaser fire and arrows brought down the rest. 

Soon they were down to a dozen, easy picking. “You got a handle on this?” Barton said.

“Indubitably,” Jim said, and Barton was up and gone.

“ _I gotta check on Coulson,_ ” Barton said.

“Get an eye on the Hulk, too,” Steve said, raising his shield to catch a ‘bot blast meant for Stark as Stark crushed the head of one too close to Steve. 

“ _Got it,_ ” Natasha said. “ _Doc confirms Banner and the girl are stable._ ” 

“Cap,” Stark said. Steve looked over his shoulder, and Stark turned a handspring to smash in a Doombot’s chest. 

“Nice,” Steve said, grabbing another ‘bot and breaking it in half over his knee. 

“Also nice,” Stark said.

Spock and Scotty edged into the room, and the last five ‘bots disappeared in phaser fire. Jim jumped up and ran to Spock. “Spock. You got my message. How did you find us?”

“Your messages,” Spock said, raising his eyebrow. “The ping from your communicator, which gave us its location in this universe. And when we arrived in that building, a computer gave us information on a Philip Coulson, including his assignment to bring you to this location.” 

Jim laughed. “Priority alpha. I suppose I owe JARVIS a thank you.” 

“ _You are most welcome,_ ” JARVIS said over the comm. “ _However, I could have done as you asked as well as continued functioning within normal parameters had you only requested my assistance._ ” 

“What he means is, that was really stupid, thanks for nearly getting me killed,” Stark said, flipping up his faceplate.

“Really?” Jim asked, nostrils flaring. “Looks to me like I saved your life.” 

“Stop,” Steve said, stepping between them, one hand on Stark’s shoulder. “This is done. Iron Man, outside.” 

Jim met Stark’s eyes for another half a minute, and then turned to Spock. “Let’s get Bones.”

Stark pushed Steve’s arm away and flew out the same way his armor had flown in, crashing through the already broken walls.

“Temper, temper,” Jim said, leading the way out of the room, but Steve picked him up by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. 

“You?” Steve asked, one arm under Jim’s clavicle, holding him in place. “You’re the reason JARVIS was down?”

Spock reached for Steve’s shoulder, and Jim said, “Stand down, Mr. Spock.” He met Steve’s eyes. “I needed the computer’s help to get home. I didn’t know it would interfere with Stark’s suit.” 

Steve’s grip tightened, his eyes unreadable, and Jim wondered if calling Spock off had been a good move. Finally, he said, “If I’d had the same opportunity, I would’ve used it. Even knowing the consequences.” He let Jim drop to the floor. “At least I’ve wised up.” 

Steve picked up his shield and jogged out of the room, and Scotty whistled. “You alright, sir?”

“Yeah,” Jim said, hand at his throat for a moment. “Come on.” He led them out, thankful for their flashlights as they made their way over smashed bots and down the stairs.

Steve met them at the stairs, carrying Banner, who was still covered in blood but alert and grudgingly acceptant of being held like a porcelain doll in Captain America’s arms. “Thanks,” Banner said, holding up his hand to Jim. Jim nodded. “No trouble.” 

“Black Widow already got Leonard out,” Steve said. “This way.” 

“Sentient arachnids?” Spock asked Jim.

“Code name for an assassin,” Jim said. “Although, I read something about a Spider-man.”

“Egh,” Scotty said. “I don’t want to know how _that_ happened.” 

“I do not believe such a union is possible,” Spock said. 

“Believe me,” Banner said, “We all wish it wasn’t.”

Steve led them of the building and into a warm twilight. Hawkeye and Coulson were standing a few feet from the entrance. Coulson cleared his throat and said, “It’s rare that someone gets by me.”

Spock inclined his head. “My apologies.” 

“No,” Coulson said, adjusting his tie and smiling. “I’ve been Vulcan nerve pinched. It’s a dream come true.” 

“Strange,” Spock said. 

“You might even say, _fascinating_ ,” Iron Man said, dropping next to them. 

“Nice android,” Scotty said, walking over to Stark and inspecting the line of his arm. “I’ve never seen one so life-like.” 

Stark flipped his faceplate up, winking despite his blackened eye and cut cheek, and held out his hand. “Only because it’s alive. Hi. Tony Stark. I’m a fan of yours, what you do, the giving you all she’s got, that sort of thing. Transparent aluminum, tell me about it.”

Scotty took his hand, slightly taken aback. “Thank you, but I don’t think — “

“No, don’t tell me what you don’t think, just tell me what you know. I have been wanting to know this since nineteen eighty-six, I haven’t waited for anything so long in my _life_.” 

“I’d prefer replicators,” Banner said. Steve had let him stand on his own feet, but still had an arm around his waist.

“That’s because Loki didn’t throw you out a window,” Stark said. “Would never had happened if it was aluminum.”

“Ah, right,” Banner said, with a grin. 

Scotty looked at Jim, who shrugged. “Alright, then. It’s a simple matter of — “

“Captain,” Spock said, “what about the prime directive? Is this culture warp capable?”

Stark looked at Spock. “For you, baby, we could be.” He waggled his eyebrows. 

Spock’s nostrils flared. “Excuse me?”

“I believe he’s making a pass at you, Mr. Spock,” Jim said, and when Spock’s eyebrow raised, he added, “A sexual advance.”

“I know what a pass is, Captain.” 

“Do you?” Stark purred, leaning in close to Spock. “Jane Foster pulled the title of first recorded human to bang an alien right out from under my feet, but this is one case where I’d be happy to take second.”

“Mr. Stark, please do not cause another intergalactic incident,” Coulson said. 

Stark backed up and pointed at Coulson. “Stop calling me Mr. Stark or I’ll cause three out of spite.”

“Tony,” Steve said. 

“ _Steve_ ,” Stark said, glaring at him. 

“Tony — sorry, Doctor Banner,” Steve said, and gently set him on the ground before crowding into Stark’s space.

“No problem,” Banner said, wincing. “Don’t mind me.”

Steve looked Stark in the eye. “What’s your problem now?”

“What’s my problem?” Stark said, laughing. “What’s my problem? I was just tortured for an hour and then nearly blown up, and now what, you want me to play nice?” 

Steve jabbed him in the shoulder. “You knew JARVIS was compromised and you still went in there with no backup! I told you to wait and you turned off your comm!”

Stark shoved back. “Kirk made a mistake and it's _my_ fault? Jesus, Steve, can’t you see past his pretty face? Or maybe you just understand him too well. You would do the same thing, after all.” 

“If you were listening in, why’d you miss the part where I said I wised up,” Steve said, stepping closer to Stark, gloved hand curling around Stark’s shoulder. 

Stark tried to back away, but Rogers followed. “Oh, come on, if you could climb into a Delorean right now, you wouldn’t even look into the rearview mirror.” 

“I don’t know what that means,” Steve said, evenly. 

“Jesus,” Stark said. “Fine, I’ll use one you’ll get. If you could just click your heels together and go home, you would.”

Steve closed his eyes, tapped his red boots together three times, and said, “There’s no place like home.” He opened his eyes and grinned at Stark. “Seems like it worked.” 

“Of course it didn’t work,” Stark said, a smile pulling at his mouth. “If it worked, why the hell are we in Brooklyn?”

“I know what I like,” Steve said, leaning in and kissing Stark. Stark laughed at first, and then moaned as Steve licked into his mouth, completely unconcerned by their audience.

“I take it he’s not that worried about the aluminum,” Scotty said, quietly.

“I guess not,” Jim said, turning away. 

Banner held up a hand and Barton helped him to his feet. “I am!”

“Well, you see, it’s a simple matter of expanding the molecular structure...” Scotty began. Jim tuned him out, as he generally did. The man was a genius, but he never could skip to the point. 

They rounded the corner of the building to find Bones and Natasha. Bones was leaning against the wall, the little girl held to his chest, and he was humming, low and off-key. He looked up and smiled at Jim, who could only lean against the wall next to him and smile back. 

Bones’s grin grew even bigger when he saw Spock. “You,” he whispered. “I have never been so glad to see your pointed ears in my life.” 

“They are visible?” Spock asked. “My hat must have slipped.” He made no attempt to adjust it, and normally, Jim would have called him on making a joke. Instead, he reached over and took Bones’s hand. 

Scotty was still nattering while Banner hung off of Barton’s shoulder and onto Scotty’s every word, occasionally jumping in with the same sort of scientific blather until Scotty was beaming. Spock and Bones quietly exchanged barbs, both with an ease to their shoulders, and Jim was content. 

An ambulance and a police car pulled up, and the girl’s parents came running out, weeping, and Bones dropped Jim’s hand to give them their sleeping daughter. He shook his head at their thanks, pointing to Stark and Steve, who had come around the corner, dazzling smiles on their faces as they tried not to look at each other.

Coulson said, mildly, “Doctor Banner, the bus is here for you.”

Banner’s smile closed down as he turned from Scotty to look at Coulson. “I don’t think so.”

“Thought you’d say that,” Coulson said. “And for the first time in our acquaintance, I could make you go anyway.”

“You know this stuff only lasts four hours, tops,” Banner said. “You want the other guy making an appearance in a hospital? I know they don’t make restraints that big.”

Coulson shrugged. “I don’t want to have made them drive all this way for nothing. I’ll make Stark go.”

Natasha huffed, and Coulson looked at her. “Never mind. Romanoff just volunteered.”

“I’m not even injured!” she said.

“I saw you favoring your right leg,” Barton said.

“Well, I saw you holding your side,” Natasha said, straightening. 

“You’re both going,” Coulson said.

Natasha walked toward the ambulance and said over her shoulder, “Rat fink.”

“Give me that,” Coulson said, sliding his arm around Banner, and Barton grinned at him, fast and quick, before going to join Natasha. 

Steve walked the girl’s family back to the police car, and Stark walked over to Jim’s crew, looking pensive, but he immediately started talking. “Back to my place? We can party like it’s nineteen ninety-nine. Or twenty-one ninety-nine. Or, hell, both, why not both.”

“I don’t think so,” Jim said, and Stark looked relieved. 

He covered it well. “Feel free to drop by anytime. Mi casa es su casa.” 

“Thank you,” Jim said, holding out his hand, and Stark shook it, his repulsor hot against Jim’s palm. 

Bones reached for Stark’s hand after Jim had let it go. “Tony. Thanks for everything.”

“My pleasure,” Stark said, smile widening. “It was fun, Bones.”

Bones leaned in closer to Stark, and Jim’s stomach jolted. “Tony. You should come with us. Your heart — I could fix it. And you’d love the Enterprise. Think of everything you could do.” 

Stark opened his mouth and closed it again, looking over to Steve, who was walking toward him from the street. “You know,” he finally said, “That’d be great.” 

“Good,” Bones said, slapping him on the shoulder, but Stark kept talking.

“I mean, the Enterprise, the warp drive, baby, who wouldn’t want that. And you don’t have the Star Wars prequels, that’s a great draw. But — “ Stark said, eyes only on Steve. “I don’t know. I mean, Empire Strikes Back is by far the best of the Star Wars films, and Return of the Jedi — we all forgave it the Ewoks because _Princess Leia in a bikini_ , your argument is invalid. I don’t know if I can live someplace those films aren’t known and appreciated. I don’t think so.” 

“Well, then,” Bones said, and held his hand out to Steve. “It was good to meet you, Captain Rogers.”

Steve nodded. “You, too, Doctor McCoy.”

Jim shook Steve’s hand, too, and winked. “Captain Rogers, I sincerely hope our paths cross again.”

Steve blushed, but he grinned. “Next time, I’ll try to be prepared.”

Jim nodded, and turned to Bones. “Well, Bones, what do you say?” 

“I think I’m about ready for home,” Bones said. Jim smiled and took Spock’s outheld communicator. “Kirk to Enterprise. Four to beam up.”

[ ](http://s1102.photobucket.com/albums/g453/ellipsisthegreat/Guide/?action=view&current=backcover.png)


	5. Author's Note

[ ](http://s1102.photobucket.com/albums/g453/ellipsisthegreat/Guide/?action=view&current=backcover.png)

Writing this story was one hell of a ride. I signed up for [Star Trek Big Bang](startrekbigbang.livejournal.com) in May 2012, thinking I would finish the seventy thousand plus word epic Jim and Bones romance I've been working on since December 2011. However, at the end of June 2012, I was in [Jim_and_Bones](jim-and-bones.livejournal.com)'s Word Wars, talking about how Star Trek characters and Avengers characters would interact. We joked about Jim and Tony needing to one-up each other, even going to the point of challenging each other to a blowjob competition.

[Caitri](caitri.livejournal.com) said, "Omph, write that for my birthday next week!" 

I said, "Fuck, yes!"

Ten thousand words and one week later, I sent a message to Caitri telling her I had accidentally big banged her birthday present. Oops. I wrote feverishly and slackerishly, sometimes inspired and sometimes hating myself to the depths of my soul, but I turned in a complete draft of this crack-laced fic on the September 1st, 2012 deadline. 

This became my love letter to the sci-fi fandom and its creators. I am proud to be a Trekkie and a comic book fan, and we're never better than when we poke a little fun at ourselves. So, if Voyager is your favorite, please forgive Tony's harsh words. The Hulk is on your side, after all. 

Anyway, never ending thanks to [Tresa](tresa_cho.livejournal.com), [Elli](ellipsisthgreat.livejournal.com), [Pancakes](la_stack.livejournal.com), and [Fairy](fairyniamh.livejournal.com) for being Word War buddies and generally encouraging. Tresa and Elli also stood as betas. Tresa tried to whip a plot into what probably still is the longest PWP you've ever read. Elli is responsible for the deletion of one hundred fifty-ish uses of the word "that." Thank them, please. [Evening_bat](evening_bat.livejournal.com) was a great encouragement as we popped our Big Bang cherries together. (Sorry I said that. Ew. But there will be a lot more blood when she posts her big bang; look out for her epic Doom crossover November 12th on the [Star Trek Big Bang](startrekbigbang.livejournal.com) community.)

Also, huge kudos to [Wyntreaurora](wyntreaurora.livejournal.com), who made the delicious mix for this behemoth. Make sure you [check it out](http://wyntreaurora.livejournal.com/12841.html). Elli receives the gold star for most mentions in my author's note because she also made [this gorgeous art](http://ellipsisthgreat.livejournal.com/23505.html). I literally squealed with glee at every draft she showed me. You outdid yourself, babe. 

Finally, I thank [Vensre](vensre.livejournal.com) for their incredible support. Ven convinced me this story was worth telling and (as always) pushed me to do better. They also encouraged the horrible line about cell phone reception; please pass all related groans along to them. I take full responsibility for everything else.

I'm blessed to have such good people around me. Thanks, all.

So, that's that. The credits have rolled and you've stayed in your seat out of a sense of duty, perhaps, or support for the creators. The screen goes black, and you begin to gather your things. But then, a flicker:

_Two Years Later_

Jim sat outside Jo’s door, waiting for Bones to finish telling bedtime stories and giving one more “one last kiss, Daddy.” This was Jim’s third trip to Georgia, and Joanna’s rituals were becoming familiar.

He wasn’t quite sure he was cut out for this, for family. He’d had relationships before, short clashes of heady feelings—nothing that lasted. None but Bones, who’d been with him, in one way or another, for eight years. Jim could fly as far as he wanted and Bones would still be right with him. 

Spock had been amused when Jim had confided to him about Bones, telling Jim that he’d always been nearsighted when it came to “the doctor’s most obvious emotions.” Bones had retaliated by telling Spock everyone knew what Vulcan kissing looked like, “so stop necking on the damn bridge!”

“Necking, as the name implies, must involve use of the neck,” Spock had replied, but he did drop Lieutenant Uhura’s hand.

The door creaked open, and Bones tiptoed out of the room. 

“Asleep already?” Jim asked, and Bones nodded, putting a finger to his lips. Jim stood, stretching, and Bones caught him around the waist, kissing him softly. Jim leaned back and let Bones come closer, until Jim was tightly pressed against the wall with Bones’s hands roving his sides and coming to rest on his ass. 

Bones kissed with long swirls of tongue and gentle nips, occasionally wandering down Jim’s jaw to his earlobe and then back around to dip into Jim’s mouth. It was a slow burn, Bones a steady pressure everywhere on Jim’s body, perfect except for how Jim wanted more. Bones reached the underside of Jim’s jaw in his exploration and sucked a mark into it, biting down when Jim whined, shuddering and grinding their hips together.

They stopped, overwarm and shaky, and Bones whispered against Jim’s throat, “Put me to bed.” Jim nodded, and Bones stepped back, threading their fingers together. 

They made their way, stumbling, into their bedroom. Curtains fluttered in the open window, the warm Georgia breeze and starlight pushing around them. Bones pressed Jim against the door and fumbled to make sure it was locked before he unbuttoned Jim’s shirt. Jim didn’t take the time to mess with buttons; Bones always wore his shirts half-open anyway, and Jim had no difficulty pulling it over Bones’s head and tossing it in the corner. 

And then they were chest to chest, still novel enough after two years they took the time to explore. Bones always went for Jim’s nipples — he said he’d seen ‘em so often that he’d developed a thing for them — while Jim mapped Bones’s broad shoulders with his mouth. 

Jim pushed them onto the bed, falling deliberately on top of Bones and pressing his thigh against Bones’s crotch just to hear Bones curse. He loved wringing reactions from Bones in every situation, but this — Jim working him into a frenzy, rutting against him until they were both flushed and moaning — _this_ brought out: “Oh, darlin’, please,” “Sweetheart, right there,” and “I want you inside me, Jim;” sweet nothings Jim would never have imagined falling from Bones’s wry mouth. 

Jim gave him everything he asked for, and more besides, until the sweetness was littered with profanity and Jim himself was whispering words he hadn’t expected to say. “Sign on for five more years,” wasn’t the best line he’d ever used in bed, but Bones had received it well: “Oh, hell, yes, darlin’; keep doin’ that and I’ll sign on for ten.”

Afterward, Jim spread over Bones’s side, tracing the bridge of Bones’s nose with his fingers, and asked, “What if ten years isn’t long enough?”

“That’d be twenty years in the ‘fleet, surely that’d be...” Bones said, and Jim’s gut went cold. Bones turned to face him, eyebrow raised. “Or is the ‘fleet asking to marry me?”

Jim shrugged. “Maybe not the ‘fleet,” he said. 

Bones chuckled. “Well, if Starfleet’s not asking, who is?”

“Maybe I am,” Jim said, and maybe he was.

“I’ll tell you what,” Bones said, running his hand up Jim’s stomach to rest over his heart. “Give me this every night and I’ll do whatever you want, up to and including matrimony.” 

“It’s a deal,” Jim said, put his hand over Bones’s and kissed him. 

They woke the next morning to find Tony Stark sitting on the end of the their bed, playing with Jim’s padd. “Where’s your coffee?” he asked, ignoring the way Bones pulled the sheets up and the phaser Jim grabbed from under the bed. 

“What are you doing here?” Jim yelled, and Bones shushed him. “Joanna’s sleeping.”

“No, the tyke’s up,” Stark said. “Eating breakfast. I made her an omelet. Figured you lovebirds needed your beauty sleep, but didn’t want you to think I was creeping on your daughter, so I decided to wait in here.”

“How the hell did you get in my house?” Bones asked. 

“Oh, easy, interdimensional rift, see?” Stark said, looking up from the padd for the first time and pointing to a haze by Bones’s dresser. He held up the padd and said, “By the way, this is stupidly heavy.”

“I know,” Jim said, frowning. Every time he picked it up, he was reminded of New York.

“Anyway, I was in the neighborhood — well, Reed’s neighborhood — and he’d fixed up his Rift-o-Matic, that’s a working title but I like it, and I decided to drop in. We can do that, as long as you keep those communicators on you. I’m a little disappointed, actually, I was hoping for the Enterprise.”

“Why’s that?” Jim asked. 

“Just wanted to see your baby,” Stark said. “And I didn’t get the heart to heart with Scotty I was hoping for; Banner is holding that molecular structure over my head and it’s really starting to piss me off because green is great, yeah, but I’m not planting grass on my tower for aluminum.” 

He paused, and then seemed to notice Jim and Bones were still in the room. “But that’s not the reason I came. I’m about to inject myself with super soldier serum enhanced nanites, and I was thinking I’d like an actual M.D. to keep an eye on me during that. Normally, I’d go it alone, but Steve’s not a fan of that plan and Banner’s wussing out. Would you be willing? Nothing too big, just keep an eye on my stats, declare me dead if necessary.” 

Bones’s eyebrows were so high they were hidden under his hair. 

“Just think about it, I’ll be in touch,” Stark said. “Also, you were kind enough to give me a warning, Kirk, and I felt I should return the favor. I have no idea how much I actually know about your life, but you should probably look up Carol Marcus.” 

“ _Sir, the rift is becoming unstable,_ ” JARVIS said, speaking from Jim’s padd. 

“What did you do?” Jim asked, and Stark just hopped up and tossed the padd onto the bed. 

“Nothing too big. Just installed JARVIS-lite. Don’t piss him off, he’s touchier than my JARVIS,” Stark said, covering his mouth with his hand and adding, “Size issues. Nothing you’d know about, Kirk.”

Bones was kind enough to look affronted for him, but Stark paid no heed, walking over to the now-pulsing rift. He raised an eyebrow, waved at them, and then jumped into nothingness. The haze disappeared, and they were alone in their room.

Jim and Bones stayed frozen for a moment, and then Jim’s padd spoke. “ _Captain Kirk, Doctor McCoy. A message from Mister Stark: ‘I’m still good for that bet.’_ ”

[ ](http://s1102.photobucket.com/albums/g453/ellipsisthegreat/Guide/?action=view&current=TheEndMarker.png)


End file.
